Full Circle
by Defiant.Anjeru
Summary: New sum: Cullen tried to pit Sebastian against Hawke and Anders, but in turn gave them what they needed to free themselves. Now they must venture to the Divine with unforeseen allies before it's too late, and mages pay the ultimate price: death. DA2/DA:O.
1. Remorse

Notes: This is my first attempt at a Dragon Age fanfic, and I must apologize for any mistakes I make. I have not written in a very long time, and only since Dragon Age, has my spark for writing been relit. I am a little rusty, lol. I was sorely disappointed in the lack of actual romance between Hawke and Sebastian, and this is my attempt at placating the nagging need for more. I have many ideas for this story, and hope to have many followers. I hope you enjoy! =D

This chapter is a starting point for many things to come. The events here out take place during, and after the conclusion of, Dragon Age 2. Thus, SPOILERS. (Also, I have made some dialogue changes in the finale to better set the mood and understanding of the set up.) Sorry it seems a little scattered! Much more coming soon! Wrote this at 3 am. :p

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Dragon Age...*cry* I wish! D:

_**Full Circle  
><strong>_

Anders had sent Thedas into chaos. His destruction of the chantry of Kirkwall had destroyed what little chance there had been for peace, as unlikely as it had seemed at the time. Grand Cleric Elthina, and Hawke, had been dead set on not choosing sides, instead choosing to try and resolve what conflicts came to them with a neutral stand point. They wanted no endangerment to the people of Kirkwall, but Anders and his selfish spirit of Vengeance had taken that choice from them. He'd tied their hands, murdering the Grand Cleric in cold blood for her refusal to support the apostate mages. Hawke was a mage herself, but still could not bring herself to fully understand his actions. How could someone who claimed to care for her so deeply, force such an act upon her?

The world had seemed to move so slowly around her in that moment. Sebastian was demanding his own vengeance, commanding her to put the traitor to death. Anders' eyes were sad, but accepting, almost as if he expected the young mage to take the exiled prince up on his demand.

"No - I will not kill him..." Those were the words she had spoken that day, all but condemning her life to nothing but misery and suffering from that moment on. "Go, Anders...now."

Anders' shock had been apparent, as well as Sebastian's, though it did not last for long. Soon anger followed and the prince was snarling at her. Hawke had not been able to handle the look Sebastian was giving her; a look of betrayal and hurt. "You... you would do this to me? Let this traitor free? After I pledged myself to you as your husband in the Maker's eyes?" He snapped. "He killed Elthina, murdered her in cold blood, for no other reason than not taking his side! These mages must be stopped!" His brows were drawn down over his beautiful blue eyes in anger and hatred. His strong, capable hands, that had protected her again and again, were clenched in fists at his sides. "I swear to the Maker that I will return to Starkhaven, and build an army, to kill your _precious_ Anders!" He spat the word out at her like it was poison.

Hawke couldn't help the bitter laugh that spilled forth from her lips. "These mages?" she repeated hesitantly. "I am a mage...Sebastian. Am I to be killed along with all the others, simply because I do not wish to be locked up? How could I devote myself to the chantry if they would seal me away, make me tranquil, take everything human away from me?"

"Look at what these mages have done! The chantry lies in ruins! The Maker and Andraste both weep from the abuses of magic this day," he seemed to hesitate a moment. Something was fighting its way to the surface in his eyes and, for a brief moment, Hawke allowed herself hope. It wasn't long before it died out, and he was cold. Stoic. Detached. Hawke's heart sank. "The Maker does not condone this action. By allowing this...this..._abomination_ to live, you are denying his will and turning your back upon him. I cannot stand by this. Goodbye...Hawke." Sebastian's eyes showed nothing before he turned and proceeded to disappear.

With her heart broken, Hawke and her companions had gone forward. That day they had changed the world; destroying the Templar order, the circle, taking down Meredith and Orsino. She had even lost her sister, despite her efforts to protect the young and innocent Bethany from the cold, murdering hands of the Templars. She couldn't help but be a tad grateful that her sister was at rest...their world was turning to ashes, being thrown into chaos and insanity.

Everything fell to pieces. The surviving mages were set free upon Thedas. The Templar order, and all the circles, had been shattered. Circumstances forced Hawke's companions from her side, save for Anders, who had been so grateful for her sparing his life, that he vowed to forever stay by her side and protect her, though each day proved a battle to remain in control of himself. It had been almost a year now, and Justice breached the surface far too often these days, especially with the two mages now on the run... 

* * *

><p>Hawke was doing her best to stifle the sobs building with her chest, her shoulders heaving with the effort as she huddled in her temporary home. The stable was dark and desolate, even dank, as the Maker's wrath descended from the heavens. The storm had not abated in days, thunder so loud it was deafening, lightning flashing so bright, she could have sworn she was blind; the rain, oh goodness, the rain. It poured from the skies as though it had no end, as though it was determined to drown the filth of Thedas. She was sure that included her. What had she done? She allowed a murderer free, at the cost of her heart, at the cost of hundreds of lives, and for what? Friendship?<p>

Sebastian...even now, after everything that had happened, she wondered where he was at. What he was thinking. If he was even thinking of her, without bile and hatred building up within his soul. She doubted it. "Sebastian..." she whispered his name on the cold air around her, her arms tight around her mid section. "Oh love...I am so sorry..."

It was this moment that Anders chose to return from scouting. His eyes were sad as he took in her huddled form. "Hawke...?" his voice quiet, hesitant in its inquiry. "D-don't!" the mage muttered back, feeling she deserved no sympathy, no consolidation. "I...I am fine." A soft cough came from her as she wiped her eyes and stood, shuddering for a moment as she once again suppressed the overwhelming emotions that had built up. That begged to be set from within her.

Hawke cleared her throat, and brushed her damp auburn hair from her eyes, turning to face her...friend. If that was what you could call him. "Did you find anything?" Anders shook his head and set his staff to rest beside the door. "Whoever was on our trail seems to have lost track of us, which is good, trust me. Justice would no doubt be eager for their blood, especially if it happened to be straggler Templars," he responded. Her teeth touched her lower lip as she thought of his words, the darkness doing nothing to help her gauge the mage.

"I...see."

"What is it?" Anders asked. His hand was lifted then, upwards, a small flame taking hold within his palm. His boots thudded across the floor boards of the stable as he approached her. His robes and beautiful blond hair were soaked, stray droplets of water falling to take hold on the ground. As he came to stand in front of her, his eyes seemed to be searching her silver ones; looking for an answer to a question she could not answer. Did not want to answer. It was never an intentional thing, for Hawke to hurt him, or anyone. Perhaps that was why everything had fallen apart the way it had, because she could never commit to one thing because someone was always unhappy if she did.

"Nothing, Anders. Don't worry your poor blond head over it, " she joked. In the time they had spent on the run, the poor guy had confessed to feelings for her. Her heart belonged to the royal archer who departed from her life, however, despite his complete disengagement from her upon the sparing of Anders' life. How could she blame him for that? She wasn't even sure now if it had been the right thing to do. "If there is no one on our trail, it may be safe to rest here for the night. The storm is still not letting up. Even if we wanted to, we could not escape in this weather. Especially from Templars..." she trailed off for a moment, now pacing away from him to put some distance between the two of them. She dared not spurn his feelings, if the Maker allowed her some peace from Sebastian's hold on her heart. Maker willing, she hoped to be able to love again one day.

"I don't know if you have noticed in your scouting, Anders, but the Templars no longer seem to be so...disjointed. They seem to have come together under a command again. Or maybe it is just my fear speaking, I don't want the circles to spawn up again. I don't want a war to start again. Though, we already seem to be in one," she confessed with a laugh. "I don't see how it came to all this..." she couldn't stop the tears building in her eyes and her voice. "I just want to go back...I want mother, and Bethany, and Carver...I just want to go back to when my biggest worry was taking care of them." A sob broke free from her.

Anders couldn't take it anymore. Hawke was hurting, who was he to turn her away? He came up behind her, the flame in his hand disappearing as he took her into his arms, her back against his chest, his cheek resting on her head. "I'm sorry, Necroditei," her name falling from his lips ever so naturally. "This is all my fault."

The smaller mage chuckled along with her soft sobs. "Maker willing this all would have happened anyhow. I mean, how long could the Templars and mages have resisted the war they felt within? It was only a matter of time. We only progressed things." Anders chuckled in response. "You got me there." He admitted. "Come, let's rest. We have a long day ahead of us." 

* * *

><p>Sebastian had taken Starkhaven back, taking his rightful place as its heir. No longer was he the exiled prince, rather he was now the exalted prince of his lands. It meant nothing to him now. He was pacing the confines of his chamber. "Maker guide me, give me strength. Provide me with the resolve for what I must do. I know revenge is not the way of Andraste, but I cannot allow that abomination to walk free after murdering your most faithful." He was praying, his eyes closed. He knew well the inside of his room, he worried nothing of tripping, or falling. Now, it did not even matter. More pressing things were on his mind.<p>

"It's been a year, but I have finally found him. Cullen's men had spotted him once again in the Free Marches with...her." With _Hawke._ "Hawke..." Even now his heart ached for her, despite the mistake she had made that day in Kirkwall, in sparing Anders' life. They had something he could not deny. Not only did his heart ache for her, but his body as well. Nightmares and dreams had plagued him for days, weeks, months; ever since that day he had walked away from her. He had denied it. Continued to deny it. There was no way he could love her, or any woman, after the betrayal she had made him endure. Not only a betrayal to him, but what he felt was a betrayal to the Maker and his bride. He had loved her so, asking her to join him in a chaste marriage, to take the vows and join the chantry...the very same one that lay in ruins. In the his eyes, Hawke and he, had been true, pure, mates in the Maker's eyes.

"I'm sorry, Hawke, but I will kill him," he whispered to himself as he stopped pacing. His eyes opened and he walked to the window of his chambers, looking out upon the Maker's anger. "Maker willing, I _will_ kill him." He knew the anguish it would cause her, but he could not stop himself. It was as if the demons he'd fought against all this time had taken hold of his thirst of vengeance and was amplifying so much, he feared he would go insane if he did not go through with it. If this was what those apostates had endured, he could at least see why so many had turned to blood magic in their fear during that last day.

His heart heavy, the prince turned away from the window and stripped himself of his armor, taking some semblance of refuge in his bed. The covers rested at his waist as he lay there in nothing but his breeches. His eyes wandered his room, resting for a brief moment on the lit fire pit, memories stirring his mind that he no longer wished to think of. Frustrated, he dragged his fingers through his dark hair. With a strangled groan, he pulled the covers to his chin and screwed his eyes shut in an attempt to put the mage from his mind. _Hawke..._

_H_e _must have been dreaming. There was no other way that he could be standing amongst the remains of his beloved chantry. He wasn't even in his armor, which only solidified his belief that this was nothing but a dream. In his shirt and breeches, Sebastian found himself walking among the rubble of what was once his most treasured home. "Maker forgive us, for we know not what we do in your name, but forgive us for our transgressions as we continue through the world under your guidance," he heard these words, spoken so softly and in a voice so familiar, it tore at his heart. His eyes found her, sitting where she could figure was the last spot in which she had spoken to Elthina. "I miss you, Grand Cleric. I miss the wisdom in your words, and even now, I wish I could seek your guidance. Because of my...friend, the situation has only degraded into chaos and I don't know how to set it right." He heard tears in the words and as he drew closer, he could begin to see her more clearly. _

_Hawke was dressed in a dirty mage's robe, sitting on a piece of flooring that somehow had survived the blast that damn Anders had caused. There were tears in her clothes, her hair was mussed and in disarray, and she had her knees to her chest, her cheek resting there, arms wrapped tight around them. Sebastian could have sword to the Maker she was rocking herself. "Forgive me, Elthina. If I had known what he was going to do, I would have stopped him somehow. I know I could not kill him, but it was you who taught that revenge was never the answer. Even now I know you can forgive him, as you watch us from the Maker's side." She was crying, he saw. Her silver eyes glistening in what he now saw was the sunset. Her shoulders were shaking and for a moment, Sebastian's resolve wavered. _

_He didn't know what had alerted her to his presence, but one moment she was unaware, the next jumping from her spot to spin herself around. Hands were at her side, clenched, magic beginning to flicker around them as she took a defensive stance, legs spread, eyes flashing. When she realized who it was that stood before him, every ounce of fight seemed to drain from her and she turned pale, she legs looking as if they were losing their strength. "S-sebastian?" His name was hesitant on her lips and he had to swallow hard to keep himself from running the distance to her and scooping up the exhausted looking mage into his arms._

_He had to clear his throat and clench his hands. "Lady Hawke..." he started, before shaking his head. "No, that's not right...Necroditei." He had only used her name once, not her 'title' name, and that had been when he had asked for her hand...in a sense. They had grown so far apart in the year that had passed. How could they not when the very fabric of reality and belief was shattered before their very eyes? "What are you doing here?" He asked her, his tone cold. Her eyes wavered and she lowered them sadly, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "I was asking and praying for guidance...I am tired of running," she said quietly. _

_"Why run then?"_

_"If I do not...they will kill him, and more likely than not, they will kill me too." An almost bitter laugh came from her lips. "Perhaps it is better that way. I could be with my family? Really, what is there left for me? Who even needs me?" Her hands her at her temples as she held her head sadly. "I spared his life, and why? Because I am too nice for my own good. I didn't want to kill my friend, I couldn't turn my back on his struggle being the very same as he, and yet, I did exactly that, but not to him. I did that to you!" She was sobbing now and Sebastian had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from snapping at her, whether it be words to comfort her or anger her. "I have lost track of how many deaths I have caused, but I have spared lives where ever I could. What good come from death? But even now I wonder if sparing his life was worth losing you because even after all this time, I can't keep you from my mind, my thoughts, my heart. I lay awake dreaming about you, as I am now, and I know you will never hear these words from me, that I will never see you again, but it never ceases. Never-" her words were cut off as the prince stalked the distance between them and, almost angrily, took the woman into his arms. He crushed her against his chest, burying his face in her dirty hair. She was so small, her body seemed more frail that it had a year ago. It shocked him that this woman, who had once seemed as if she could dominate the world, was now so weak, and so frail._

_"What's happened to you?" He asked, almost sadly. He had thought her decision was a dead set one, one that would not torture her this way, but it seemed as if it had done nothing but done exactly that. _

_"I've died without you...somewhere inside, I've died," she whispered sadly against his neck and before he could respond, everything around him seemed to vanish. He tried desperately to hold onto the dream, or whatever connection he had seemed to have made with Hawke, but it slipped away, out of his grasp, further tormenting his troubled soul._


	2. A New Way

Notes: I am happy I got a review, and I am eager to continue, so without further waiting, I present to you, chapter two! I can't guarantee I will be able to keep up this pace, unfortunately, so please do not expect a new chapter every day or so. I think my brain would overload if I did that. Hehe.

_**A New Way**_

Hawke stirred as light stole in between the gaps of the stable's walls to fall upon her tired face. Her brows crunched down over her closed eyes, and she groaned, resisting the urge to curse the sun's light. That thought made her pause and almost hesitantly, she opened the silver twins to peer at the windows. Amazement dawned on her features, along with surprise. It seemed the Maker's wrath had abated and the good weather had come back; perhaps Hawke wasn't as doomed as she had originally surmised. A fragile smile touched her dry lips as she pushed herself up from the floor, her body aching. Anders had provided what comfort he could, having lain with her in his arms, but he could only do so much for her weary form. The wood floors were relentless in their torment.

It took a moment for the hazy veil to disappear, for her strange dream to come crashing back to her in startling clarity. She had dreamt of Sebastian again. It wasn't that detail that surprised her, but rather the amazing sensation of it being reality. She could have sworn he was there, that could have been the only reason why her sobbing confession had fell from her so easily, without provocation. His arms around her, his angry words in her ears; it was all so real and she could feel it even now. Swallowing hard, pushing her emotions away to be buried even further, she turned her eyes to peer down upon the slumbering Anders.

She smiled softly, almost at peace, enjoying the moment in which the mage finally seemed to be resting. Without a nagging spirit fighting his way to surface every minute. Her hand reached forward and without even meaning to, she found herself pushing a strand of his blond hair from his resting face. Perhaps she didn't even now understand why he had done what he had, but somehow she knew he would not have done it if he hadn't been fused with Justice. Sure, he had an attitude, a given rebellious nature, but she doubted he was ever a heartless murderer.

Lost in her thoughts, Hawke hadn't realized yet that Anders had awoken and was watching her, a small smile on his own lips. "I'm glad you find me so handsome," the mage joked, winking as the younger woman jumped in response. "Can't keep your eyes off me." He waggled his brows suggestively and she couldn't help the small laugh that spilled out of her. "Oh gee, don't let it go to your head, Blondie," she retorted, sticking her tongue out at him. Blondie had always been a somewhat affectionate nickname that their lovable little dwarf Varric had given him. On the run as they were, Hawke could admit she missed the man; he'd always been one of her most treasured friends.

Sobering up, Hawke stood and brushed the dust, or dirt - whatever it was, from her now almost raggedy robes. "The storm seems to have passed, we should get moving. We are going to need to stop somewhere for supplies. I am afraid you and I are beginning to look a little like the refugees we really are." She chuckled and held out her hand, the man taking it gladly and pulling himself up - without much pressure on her hand; more likely than not, an excuse to touch those delicate, yet powerful, fingers. As always, magic danced across each other in response to the touch of a fellow mage. That had never bothered her, yet it seemed to give them an intimacy she could not share with anyone anymore; a common thread between the two of them.

Anders grimaced and made a funny face, of feigned disgust, shaking his head. "Why I do believe you are right, we are a little worse for wear," he admitted. "Good good," Hawke started toward her staff and placed it upon her back. She swallowed again, biting her lower lip. It was a scary thought to think of how close they were to the remnants of Kirkwall. She had strayed them away from wandering into Starkhaven for her desperate fear of confronting the man who held the reigns of her heart. "We need to be careful. Being around Sundermount and the Wounded Coast is precarious enough as it is, but we are getting a little too close to home, for comfort."

"I noticed," Anders nodded. "Or rather, Justice has. As we get closer to Kirkwall, he becomes rather...restless."

"Hn, I'd noticed." She retorted that with a chuckle as Anders took up his own staff, her clenched hand playfully hitting him in the shoulder. "Who knows what the Templars are up to these days. So far we have had nothing but stragglers who hold desperately to the ideals of the Order, but..." She tapped her index fingertip to her pursed lips. "As I mentioned to you before, I don't see as much...confusion as there used to be. They are coming together somehow, not that I expected them to go down without a fight. I did think they wouldn't be so eager to hunt us after all that happened with Meredith, but they probably assume the mages are growing weary, tired, and they can take the rest of us out without much fight."

"Hah! You think they would have learned," He said, pulling open the stable doors. "Typical. Hard headed, cruel, stubborn; I doubt they'd stop hunting us, even if that meant their existance wiped from the surface of the world. They know of nothing else. Hunting us is there life achievement."

"Not surprising. I saved so many lives. I defended Kirkwall from the Qunari invasion. Yet, because I wield a gift from the Maker, they would deny me and stick me in their circles without so much as a second thought," Hawke admitted. In fact, it had almost happened once before. It was one reason she felt she owed Elthina her life. More than once the Grand Cleric had saved her; Meredith had sought to lock her up withing the Gallows, if even for just a short time, to teach Hawke that, just because she had status, it did not mean she was exempt from her punishment of being a mage.

"I know, Necroditei, I know." He gently patted her head, his fingers lingering for a moment to stroke her hair. "Come, we must find a way to get supplies without having to go into the city itself. Maybe one of those merchants are hanging around still." Hawke nodded softly. "If anything, Anders, we may just have to sneak into the city using one of our hidden routes into Darktown. This being if, after all this time, they haven't discovered them."

* * *

><p>They were not as close as they had originally assumed. The walk was long and tiresome, taking days, but with a life on the run, how was the unusual? The pair of apostates crested the hillside just west of the Wounded Coast, the city well within view now. "Hn, I don't see anything..." Hawke said. She turned her eyes to the man standing beside her. "You?"<p>

"I don't see anything either," he said as his eyes scanned the horizon. She took this as the 'go ahead' gesture and began to walk forward again, but before she got far, Anders had a hold of her arm. "I didn't say it was clear, just that I didn't see anything. Justice senses...something." Hawke rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue. "Hah! Probably just voicing his displeasure of me, as usual." He chuckled, and shook his head, but kept his eyes focused. "I'm always the distraction, I'm always the one leading you astray, ruining your life - hah! Yeah right, little does _he _know!"

Anders couldn't help but laugh and firmly, but gently, set his hand over her moving lips. "Shh, lest you anger the beast," he teased with a wink. Hawke took his hand off of her lips and only responded with another showing of that witty tongue. "You keep doing that, I might have to take you up on your offer." He ruffled her hair with that same hand, before turning away from her and beginning to walk again. "Whatever Justice sensed, it's gone now, let's go. Just be weary; I would not be able to go on if anything happened to you."

* * *

><p>Sebastian's heart was racing in his chest. Cullen was standing before him, confessing that his men had spotted the two apostates, seemingly headed for Kirkwall. "Probably short on supplies," the Templar was saying, "they can't be on the run forever without having to take risks to keep supplied. This may be our only chance to catch them unaware - well, not completely unaware - but at least by surprise. They don't realize how quickly Templar order has come back together to take on the task of...removing the mage threat." The prince was only half listening, but nodded nonetheless. Over the year that had passed, Cullen had sunk into despair and darkness, rising out of his ashes as a vengeful phoenix. No longer did he doubt the Templar's mission; the mages <em>needed<em> to be locked up, if not permanently sealed off from the Fade with the rite of tranquility. "Every mage turns to blood magic; it's only a matter of when. Serah, are you listening?" Cullen prodded him with his tone.

"Ah yes, I'm sorry. I was only thinking." The prince admitted with a shake of his head. "Of the woman, no doubt," the Templar snipped. "Sorry, excuse my blunt observation, but whatever happened between you and the Champion can no longer be. She is an accessory to a murderer, a apostate running free to practice her wiles among the innocent; the Maker would not forgive us if we left her unpunished." Something twisted in Sebastian's gut, warning him, but he only nodded.

As the day passed, that wrenching sensation refused to leave him. "Maker guide me, for I am lost. Bless me and show me the way in which to glorify your name. Andraste did not condone the misuse of magic, and is that not exactly what Anders and Hawke have done?" He mused thoughtfully to himself. He found he was standing at the steps that used to lead to the chantry, but instead, led to the rubble of a once glorious statement to the Maker and all his glory. His dream from nights before came to mind and that nagging sensation refused to leave him. Hawke's words were ringing in his ears. And it was then, as if the Maker revealed it himself, Sebastian knew he had to reach his mage before the Templars. He didn't know why, only that he had to. There was no other option. He suddenly knew if he did not, something bad was going to happen to her. And that feeling did not go away but only grew stronger as he found Cullen watching him, resolve set in his features.

"Oh maker, Hawke..."


	3. Obscure

Notes: This chapter you will begin to realize exactly how far Cullen has fallen. I apologize to any Cullen fans. X_x

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><p><em><strong>Obscure<strong>_

After Meredith fell to the Champion, Cullen had been lost. Confused with what his path in life really was. He truly believed that the Templars could keep order and that the mages would destroy the world, if given the chance, but the knight-commander had gone too far, eliminating every magic user within Kirkwall because of the actions of one mage in particular; even the Champion herself. He hadn't disagreed with his commander, he believed that every mage was a danger, and he agreed that even though the Champion had all but saved Kirkwall from destruction, she still needed to be locked away to prevent her eventually turning to blood magic, as all mages did. Meredith had proclaimed though that there was no other solution than death and attempted to murder the mage and her cohorts.

In the end, Cullen had stood with the Champion and fought to bring down the knight-commander. He had truly believed the lyrium had all but destroyed Meredith's mind. Now he was sure that had been his biggest mistake. He was really beginning to believe that Meredith had been right. Hawke had made sure he would think that way when, after the battle, she simply disappeared, abandoning the city she had claimed to want to protect as her home. She'd gone on the run with the apostate who all but destroyed the chantry, the Templar order, and the circle. Where was her conviction now? For a year, the two mages had avoided them as Cullen did what he could to rebuild the Templars.

It wasn't an easy thing. After Anders' display, many were too frightened to come forward and take up arms against the mages, and the remaining Templars were either killed by now free apostates, or run away with their tail between their legs. Cullen didn't walk unscathed from the experience. After the battle was over, he had spent every waking hour rounding up whatever mages he could find, and all but putting them to death if blood magic were present. It wasn't as if they had anywhere to lock them up, thanks to Anders. The circle had fallen and most of Kirkwall had been reduced to rubble. Many times, he had ended battles on the brink of death. He found himself praying ever so reverently to the Maker, asking for strength and to continue on with his work, should he live. Every time, he pulled through, no matter the grave nature of his wounds.

He had been through too many situations where mages caused nothing but destruction, death, and suffering. Before, when he had been naïve, he could have actually confessed to having feelings for the Hero of Fereldan. That had been before the Fereldan circle tower had fallen to abominations. That was the beginning of his determination to put the mages where they could hurt no one any longer. It's one reason he'd gone to Kirkwall. He knew he could do better and that he would not fall to abominations again as he had that time in the tower.

He'd spent the last year, reworking and reforming the Gallows to be an even more effective prison for the mage threat. His determination could no longer falter, no matter the cost. He understood Meredith now, and with her death, he swore he would do what he could to set things right. He thought the mages would realize the error of their way after their numbers had pretty much been dwindled down to nothing. That they would realize the answer was _not _blood magic. Yet, as soon as they were free, all the mages began to turn to no other magic except blood magic. In their freedom, they were becoming cocky; it was only a matter of time before the Tevinter Imperium rose once more. Cullen would not let the Free Marches fall.

He would bring the Divine to march against them once again if it came to that. Their threat was a real one; it wasn't even about freedom anymore. If that was what it had ever really been about in the first place. Cullen was beginning to think it was no more than an excuse to rebel. How easy was it to blame their captors for their demons? How easy was it to use that as an excuse to do the inexcusable? Very easy, it seemed. Cullen wasn't going to let it stand any longer. How could he? The Maker had made this world and had protected them time and time again. The last time the mages rose, they fell; it could happen again, as Cullen wasn't about to let the mages destroy their world.

He had brought the Templar order together again, not always recruiting the most reputable characters to bring justice forth. There were things that happened to those in the new circle, he knew, that weren't the most holy of actions, but he had to admit he did not feel too inclined to straighten up his men's actions. Not when the mages were so inclined to do the same. He had stepped us as Knight-Commander, and with no viscount of Kirkwall, he was the sole authority besides the city guard. After the destruction, how could anyone question what needed to be done?

Today was the day of all days, it seemed. The prince of Starkhaven had come to pray among the ruins of the chantry, he said, and Cullen's men had claimed to have seen Hawke and Anders heading towards the city. Cullen had not been oblivious to the nature of Sebastian and Hawke's relationship; the prince had made it a point to ask the Grand Cleric for the right to allow Hawke to enter the chantry and to take the vows to become a sister, so that in the eyes of the Maker, the two would be married in the purest of relationships. Things were different now. Just as Cullen had changed, so had the prince.

He could see that Sebastian still held his faith in the Maker, but the man had confessed that he was not certain of his vows any longer. He still wanted to be true to himself, as a brother of faith, as one who could bring together people through their belief in the Maker and his bride, Andraste. However, he could not see himself as pure in his vows if he dreamed of nothing but revenge. Even Elthina had told him such, that revenge was never the answer. Even in death, the Grand Cleric had never once abandoned the people of Kirkwall. She would not seek unnecessary murder in her name. Cullen knew with this confession, he would have the Starkhaven ruler on his side as he sought to bring the mages to heel. The only concern he had was Hawke.

That concern did not waver as he watched Sebastian. As resolved as Sebastian was to seek revenge on Anders, Cullen could see how badly the man was wavering. His feelings, his beliefs; all of it was clashing and Cullen could not trust him to ambush Hawke with his men. He had a feeling if it came down to it, Sebastian would do what he could to protect her, and as Sebastian's eyes met his own, he knew he was right. Inclining his head, Cullen turned away and paced his way to the entrance of the Gallows. There stood a small troupe of his men, and he approached, signaling the men to gather around him.

"We are not going to trust Sebastian to do the right thing here," Cullen started. "We can trust the apostates to use the tunnels beneath Darktown. I suspect they will assume we have found their ways around the city, but as it is the most inconspicuous way into Kirkwall, it will be their only option. We will take the path we know was the least used and most secret. My faith in the Maker is willing me to assume no other option save that one. To be on the safe side, take a large compliment of guard and divide yourselves amongst the remaining tunnels. Should Hawke be spotted, you are to give out a sharp whistle. When you hear the whistle, you copy, and continue to send it down the chain. I doubt it will be necessary, but we are to leave nothing to chance. We cannot allow Hawke and Anders to escape from us again. Dismissed."

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><p>Notes: Already! Everything is finally set up! Please stay tuned! The next chapter may take me a little while, as it is going to be longer, and much more is going to happen! Please come back to read it!<p> 


	4. Unfair

Notes: Alright, here we go. I had to think long and hard on how to go about doing this chapter. It's not city time yet, but rather an interesting encounter between Anders and Hawke before they attempt sneaking into Kirkwall. I hope you enjoy it! My muse wouldn't let me continue without this. X.x

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><p><em><strong>Unfair<strong>_

Hawke and Anders were still heading towards Kirkwall when Anders decided it just wasn't time to sneak into the city just yet. "Hawke, wait." The mage addressed her once she had gotten a little ways ahead on him with her anxious steps. "Hm?" Hawke seemed to mumble somewhat absently, barely slowing down. Anders had to quicken his pace, catching up to her after a moment, his hand shooting out to grasp her arm a little more firmly than he intended. "Wait, wait. What has you so worked up? You shouldn't be so anxious to return to what could very well lead to war," Anders said as she stopped in his hold, turning to look at him with silver pools that threatened to drown him. He swallowed. "Oh, I'm sorry." She said softly, gently disengaging her arm from his hand. "I must've gotten lost in my thoughts."

He bit the inside of his cheek with frustration. She did that a lot these days, wandering about her thoughts as if she could find the answer to whatever it was she was questioning. "Space case," he teased affectionately, his amber eyes glinting with humor. "There is too much daylight," he said, sobering up a little. "We will need to at least wait until dark to even attempt entering the city. Justice is getting more and more restless as we draw closer. We need to make sure we have everything under control; and I do mean everything. I am not eager to spill blood, but I cannot say that I would want to control myself if I came face to face with Templars. Even now, they want us dead, or locked away to be raped, beaten, and tortured; whatever it takes to keep us submissive, like dogs." He took that step toward her that separated them. "I can't let them get ahold of you, Necroditei. The things they would do… you don't deserve it. My hands are covered in blood, and I have murdered, but you, you are innocent."

Hawke let a small smile spread across her lips and she gently put her hand to his cheek, feeling the growing stubble along his jaw. "Anders, I spared your life once, I saved you; I would not let them take you now if I didn't let them take you then." Anders' hand came up to rest on hers and he enjoyed the moment, knowing how fleeting it really was. He knew their former friend - not his friend, but hers - held her heart, but that had never stopped the feelings he'd grown for the mage to stop. He had hoped after Sebastian's betrayal, that maybe, he stood a chance. He wasn't so sure now; it had been a year and the prince continued to be a constant weight on her mind and her conscious.

The moment passed far too quickly, it seemed, and she pulled her hand back. "Alright then, Mr. I know everything, let's find a place to bunker down until nightfall. Anders nodded and almost as if the moment had never taken place, they were on the move again.

It wasn't long before they found an abandoned hovel, located a good deal away from the city; close enough, but also far enough away that they wouldn't be in immediate danger if they had been spotted heading towards Kirkwall. "This should do," Hawke chirped almost a little too cheerfully. Anders could see the act she was putting forth and frowned a moment, before he just gave a nod. "You go on inside," he said. "I will take a look around, make sure everything is alright and we are safe, before I head in."

"But I –"

"Nu-uh, no argument here. Go, inside with you." He turned her and firmly pushed her towards the door with the flat of his hands. He didn't stop until she was at the door, and even then he waited until she opened it and disappeared inside, before he dared to turn his back to her. As soon as he turned, he felt Justice brewing inside of him. It was always like this, ever since the day he had destroyed the Chantry. Anders could not blame his friend, not in good conscious, as it had been his own anger than had warped the spirit into the burning force of vengeance it was. "Not now, Justice." He mumbled under breath, pacing quickly away from the hovel. "I can't let you harm her any more than we already have."

She could hear him mumbling to himself, well, rather to Justice. It worried her how hard this seemed to be getting for Anders. She didn't want to spare his life, only to have Justice's warped agenda get him killed. When she heard him pacing away from the hovel, she dared to open the front door. He was so distracted he didn't appear to have heard her. In fact, the mage was beginning to glow faintly and those 'cracks' were appearing in his skin. She knew if he turned to face her, she'd see those glowing eyes she had become too familiar with. She spun her staff off of her back and built up the mana to throw a chain lightning bolt at him; it barely caught her companion by surprise as he spun to face her, the bolt hitting him square in the chest. He didn't fall, but kept himself on his feet, merely grunting and sliding back a foot or so.

"_You dare to attack me?" _Justice snapped as he glared at Hawke, pulling the staff off of his vessel's back to ward her off. The aura around him sparked to life like a fire and he did not appear happy. Of course he wasn't, he never was. He existed only for vengeance.

"Leave now, spirit, and return Anders." She held her ground, despite her trembling limbs. Her insides were twisting. It would not take much for the spirit to kill her. After what she saw him do to Kirkwall, she would never doubt that.

"_I think not, human. I do not approve of his traveling with you. You are nothing more than a distraction, stopping us from doing what really needs to be done. I approve of your returning to Kirkwall, but not for supplies. We shall go back to finish what we started," _He spun Anders staff as if to make his point and then held it forward, the tip pointed directly at her heart. He stood no more than a few feet from her and the blade end was just inches from her. _"Those who tried to stop us before, and continue to try to stop us now, will pay for their injustice."_

"No – that is not what Anders would want. I can't continue allowing you to do this to him. He allowed into his body because he wanted to help you. You were his friend, but you are not any longer. You've warped and it isn't even your fault, but I can't allow you to throw his life away – or mine." This had been a long time coming, and now that she faced this moment, she knew she couldn't back down.

Justice made the first move. _"Then I cannot allow you live either, Anders has no need of you. Begone!" _That flaring blue aura pulsed into a blaze around him and she spun to the side as he released a winters breathe at the spot where she had once stood before him. She flipped her staff and then raised it, calling forth a blast of tempest, drawing down bolt after bolt of lightning even as Justice moved from spot to spot, avoiding it easily enough. He knocked his body into her and sent her sprawling onto her back. Just as he jumped to point the blade at the end of staff to her throat, she rolled and jumped to her feet, sending a spirit bolt into his exposed back. He growled his rage and turned to face her, his eyes and aura burning so brightly, she was afraid it may actually blind her.

"_You are foolish to face me."_ Justice said as he stepped towards her. He did not understand his vessel's obsession with this human and he could not stand by while she deterred them from their course. "I am not," she responded back with surprising resolve. "I fight for my friend and it is never foolish to fight for a friend. You should know that well. Anders did that for you once, and I even did once; when it came to sparing him or killing him for your actions, I spared him. Just as I fought for him then, I will do so now. That should not surprise you."

"_I never spoke that it surprised me, just that it was foolish."_ He spoke it quietly, but just as resolved as she. He took a step toward but then grunted with surprise as Hawke smacked her staff into his gut with surprising force. He was flung backwards onto his back and before he could react, the lithe mage was straddling him and holding the staff across his neck, holding him to the ground. "Go! Give me back Anders!" She growled down at him, watching the spirit's rage twisting her friend's face with hate aimed at her.

Just as it seemed like Justice was going to retaliate, he jerked hard and growled dangerously. The aura and his eyes began to flicker rapidly, his body struggling beneath her as she desperately tried to hold him. The staff was pushed away, or flung away, she wasn't even entirely sure what happened, but just knew that it was gone. She frantically tried to pin him, but he faster and stronger, his hands flying up to grasp her throat. Her own hands flew up to claw desperately at the tight hold around her neck, trying to draw in air even as he strangled it out of her. "An…Anders!" She gasped out his name with desperate hope. And just like that, the spirit vanished, leaving a pair of rapidly blinking, shocked amber eyes staring up at her.

"Hands!" she gasped as she pulled at said hands, trying to loosen his grip on the slender column of her neck. He jerked them away and rolled out from under her, scrambling away from her in fear, and repulsion. He turned to see her on the ground, coughing as she regained her breathe. "What have I done?" he gasped out. "I am truly a monster!"

"Anders, no – wait, it's okay." She tried to speak to him in her normal tone, but her throat was sore and throbbing, making her voice seem almost weak. She stumbled to her feet and approached him, but he reared back away from her, mumbling and crying, shaking his head over and over. "Monster, I am a monster!" he kept saying the same words over and over. "You're not a monster!" she snapped out impatiently, though she wasn't even sure if she believed that herself anymore. She grabbed his arm firmly and he jerked around, his eyes wide, and brimming with silent tears. He looked frightened.

"I hurt her," he groaned out, unable to keep himself from pulling her into his arms and crushing her against his chest. "I swore to never hurt you, how could I do this you?" The words were spilled into her curls as he shook against her, his mind fragile, his hold on his sanity tenacious at best. "I am nothing more than a danger to you, I can't stay with you. I can't be here with you. Justice will always see you as an obstacle, and if I can't even keep him at bay, how the hell can I protect you?"

"Anders, calm down, it's okay." Her arms wrapped around him and she held him in return. How could she turn her back on him now, when he so desperately needed her there? Even though she was frightened, she could not abandon him. "Calm down. Shhh, just calm down." The moment grew quiet, and he eventually started to do just as she said, slowly, but surely, and began to calm himself. Yet, even as he calmed, he did not withdraw from her, instead he continued to hold her in his arms.

"I am so sorry, Necroditei, so sorry. I would never willingly hurt you, you know that, at least I hope you know that," he whispered into her hair. He didn't want to let this moment pass, even if it had been brought around by unwanted circumstance. He was sure she was going to pull away, as she always had before, but was proven wrong as she seemed to pull him closer. "I know, I know," she whispered back as she moved to lay her cheek against his chest. He stopped her, instead slipping a hand under her chin to turn her face up to his own, his wounded eyes seeking out her ever so forgiving ones. She returned his gaze unflinchingly, but seemed to withdraw inwardly. "No, please – stay with me," he pleaded. He didn't want her to withdraw, to turn her thoughts to _that _man. He was the one here, as flawed as he was; he was the one who had stood by her side; he was the one who loved her.

"Anders…I…" She tried to think of what she could say to him in this moment, without hurting him. He didn't let her think for long. His head dropped down so quickly she never saw it coming, his lips coming down hard on her own. He didn't even know how it happened, neither did she, but somehow they ended up against the wall of the shanty, her back pressed to the wood. She was surprised that, instead of pushing him, she was pulling him closer, her lips responding to his. It was needy, this, whatever it was. They were both hurt and seeking comfort, needing something, anything, to show that they were alive, and that they weren't the unlovable monsters they believed themselves to be.

His hands were on her cheeks now as he turned his head and slanted his lips across hers' again. Again and again, it happened. It began to consume her. It began to light a fire she hadn't felt since Sebastian; and she hadn't even ever kissed the man. He had always been resolved to hold true to his vows, despite claiming to be in love with her. Sebastian had been detached, but Anders…he was far from detached as he seemed to be melting himself into her. Her arms moved and wrapped his neck, pulling him to her harder. Sebastian didn't love her, perhaps he had never loved her, but Anders did. Didn't she deserve to be loved? Didn't she deserve to be needed like this? It was empowering that it seemed like Anders would go crazy without her, if he could not touch her, see her, and breathe her in. It made her ache, and she wasn't even sure why.

Hawke began to tremble in his arms and, knowing it was not from pleasure, Anders pulled his lips from her and raised his head to peer down at her, his hands never leaving her face. He found her eyes open, and tears rolling down her cheeks, soft sobs trying to break free from her. "Necroditei…" He said her name, feeling guilty and ashamed now. "No – don't Anders," she whispered out. "It's not you…It's me. No – that's not even true…It's Sebastian, Maker forgive me, it's Sebastian."

Anders nodded, his heart aching in his chest, his body feeling leaden and far too heavy to move. He dropped his hands from her face and took a step back. "Even now you still love him?" he asked, though he already knew the answer. "I don't want to, Anders…he doesn't love me, he never did, but Maker forgive me, my heart won't forget. It's stubborn and stupid and I hate it. But please… please don't give up on me yet," she pleaded, her own hands jumping up to frame his face. "Please, don't give up on me."

He nodded, but took her hands from his face and stepped back. "Come, let me treat those…wounds. It isn't long until we have to move." He took her hand in his and led her back inside the hovel, where after what needed to be said and done was done, they waited for the cover of darkness that would allow them to return to the city that had once been their home, but now more than ever, could very well be there prison, or final resting place.

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><p>Notes: Well, there we have it. I hope it was good for you! Poor Anders! D: Please review; I appreciate all of you who have already! It keeps me going! :D City time in next chapter, promise!<p> 


	5. Falling into Oblivion

Notes: I just realized this is the first chapter I have worked on during the day. All the others I have been writing at 2-3 in the morning. Fun, lol. Anyhow, just as I promised, this chapter will finally be the events that take place upon Anders' and Hawke's return to Kirkwall. I warn you now, things are going to be taking a somewhat rather unexpected turn, and it will be getting dark in here. Very dark; but I promise that I don't like or live unhappy endings, so there won't be any lasting tragedy. I ask for you to stick with me through the dark times; as uncertain as it seems, there will be happiness in the end. Also, there will be unexpected surprises coming as well. This was rated M for a reason. =)

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><p><em><strong>Falling into Oblivion<strong>_

Her hand lingered on her throat as she followed behind Anders, the marks that had been there from her encounter with Justice having vanished with Anders' healing. Their pace was brisk, just short of running, as they headed directly south from where they'd been hiding, towards the coast. "Anders, are you sure about this?" she asked, growing more and more anxious as his pace quickened even more. "We can find raiders, or go to another supply point; it doesn't have to be Kirkwall." It took him a few minutes, before he shook his head. "Even if we delay it now, eventually we will have no choice but to return. I know you forget because we are on the run, but we are in the middle of a war I started. We can avoid it for only so long."

She bit her lip, but nodded in acquiesce. He seemed on edge, anxious, almost… jumpy. She couldn't blame him for that, given what had happened not more than a few hours ago. It wasn't even just that, but what they were about to do. Even her own heart was racing, pushing adrenaline laced blood throughout her body, causing her limbs to tremble nervously.

It wasn't long before they reached the coast. It was now almost completely dark out, the sun sliding to hide behind the horizon. The weather seemed to be turning south again, clouds making their way over the couple as they progressed along the beach towards what they knew was an old slaver's trade tunnel, one that had been so secret, only the most elite of slavers, or the oldest, even knew of its existence. It wasn't long before they came upon what they were looking for; a door, but one with multiple bolts to hold out intruders, and scribbled with odd Tevinter symbols in what they had always assumed was blood. Anders stopped and stared at the door for a moment, the weight on his shoulders never feeling heavier than in this moment. He turned as he heard Hawke stopping behind him, his eyes resting briefly on her healed throat, before rising to her youthful, but weary, face.

"What is it, Anders?" Hawke asked him, her eyes watching him from under her auburn bangs, one of her hands rising to push away a few of the errant curls trying relentlessly to frame her face a little too closely. Her hair had always been more than trouble, always in her way what with all the fighting she had been doing since she had arrived in Kirkwall almost a decade ago. She had always been used to being on the run, being a mage, but never before Kirkwall had she ever been forced into so much conflict.

His eyes were solemn. "Necroditei… if anything happens in here, I want you to promise me something. The Templars will kill me, but even if I survive should we come across them, if you… if something happened to you, it would kill me even if the Templars did not do so." Hawke looked to interrupt him, but he firmly shook his head and set his hand across her lips to silence her. "We will not step into that tunnel unless you promise me. You must promise me, I will not give you any choice but to promise me. Do you understand me?" He waited until he felt her mouth _yes _against his hand before he continued with a nod. "If it comes down to me or you surviving, it will be you. You will not sacrifice yourself for a monster like me. Do you understand?" Her eyes glistened but she mouthed the word again and nodded. "Good, then we are in agreement." He dropped his hand from her lips and before she could react, he pulled her into his arms and slanted his lips against hers.

She made a noise of protest and surprise, her lips parting as she gasped. Anders wasn't going to hold back in the moment, not when one of them could very well die this night. He took advantage of her surprise and turned them, pushing her up against the door to the slaver tunnel. Her parted lips he also took advantage of, his tongue sliding into her mouth to touch daringly against her own. A noise, an almost desperate plea, spilled from her mouth to his, but he didn't pull away. Yet, neither did she. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and did her best to return his kiss, her tongue as shy and nervous as she. They were both panting when he broke their lips apart, but it only lasted a moment, a brief moment for their eyes to meet, before he was on her again. They came together again and again, this sudden onslaught of passion beginning to enslave and consume them both.

His hands slid into her hair and held on their tightly, almost as if he were afraid to let her go, that if he dared to let go of her, she would disappear. His lips slid from hers' to make a path along her jaw, to her neck, where he licked and nipped, enjoying every little noise that she made. He dared to move further, with her hands in his own hair, his mouth pushing her robes aside to place a lingering kiss to the curve of her neck. "Anders…I…" Hawke desperately tried to grasp onto her reasoning, but his touch, his searing touch, was eating its way through her ability to think coherently. Anders made a desperate plea against her neck, his hands tightening in her hair as he kissed there again. "Please, Necroditei… let me have this, please. I have loved you since the beginning, and it isn't fair that…that… the damned _traitorous backstabber_… holds your heart." He raised his head and looked down into her confused, but passion filled eyes. He drew his hand from her hair to run it down the side of her face. "I love you. Just this once, don't let him control you. Don't allow him to make you feel guilty. You have done nothing wrong and you do not deserve what he has done to you. If you have any feelings for me, please, just let me love you. Let me give you this one moment, to feel loved, honored, and treasured, as you always should have been."

She was truly at a loss for words. _Sebastian…_ what was he doing right now? Was he even thinking of her, at this moment, while Anders stared down at her, as if he meant to drown in her very soul? Would the _chaste_ prince, ever look at her this way? Like he would die if he could not have her love? _No, he never would. It was probably never meant to be._ Without a single word, Hawke dragged his head back down and locked her lips to his own, this time taking the initiative and delving her tongue in between his lips to dance with his own. He groaned and took his hands from her face, instead choosing to wrap her up in his arms. Her body was pressed hard into the door, but she did not even care as her whole body seemed to be consumed in flames. Her body tingled, from the top of her head to her toes, which were curling with pleasure in her boots. What right did Sebastian have to keep her from feeling loved? He'd left her; he'd left her to _die._

Anders was drowning in this tiny mage that he held in his arms. He couldn't hold back anymore, not now, not when they could die. He couldn't hold back when there was a chance that this moment would _never_ come again. He pulled away and lifted her into his arms, swinging out his leg to break down the door that held them from entering the path. It took a few kicks, but he channeled his magic into his limb and, after a few moments, the door disintegrated into ash; couldn't very well have it fall, it would make too much noise. He stalked inside and peered about for a moment, before delving off into a dead end path that ended up in a small, somewhat closed off alcove. Hawke made no protest as Anders laid her on the cool ground, coming down on top of her, his hands braced on either side of her shoulders, his knees braced on either side of her thighs.

His eyes delved as deeply as they could into hers. "Are you sure, Necroditei? I mean…I know I asked but I…I would never force you do anything against your will." He was doing what he could to hold himself from her, with the uncertainty continuing to race across her face. She looked as if she were panicking, doubting her decision in agreeing to this; he knew what she was thinking of. She was thinking of Sebastian, as she always did in these moments, but he wished she would listen to him in this one thing. Sebastian was no good for her, he knew he wasn't either, but at least he wasn't going out of his way to willingly hurt her. Hawke stirred after a moment and swallowed. She flashed him a tentative grin. "No, you are right, Anders. At least with you, I can feel truly loved. But," she hesitated a moment, laying her hand against his jaw, the stubble tickling her fingers. "You must know something. If…_this_, whatever this really is, happens between us, it is all I can give you. I feel for you, I do, but my heart… I love that damn fool, Sebastian. And…I don't think that will change anytime soon…"

He stared down at her for a very long, very silent moment, before nodding gently. "I understand. Even if a piece of you wants me, even if I can never have your heart, I am here for you." He leaned his head down and pressed a gentle, almost loving kiss to her lips. "I will always be here for you." The words were whispered against her lips, his breath tickling her intimately. "If you are sure you are okay with this…even knowing what you have told me, I want to give you this. You deserve nothing less than to be loved." Before she said anything, he was kissing her again; his hands sliding down to gently begin opening her robes. His fingers found the sash and slowly pulled the fabric until it loosened.

Hawke trembled. Anders was slowly pulling open her robes and never had this battle hardened mage ever felt as vulnerable as she did when the fabric began to separate. She had never let any of her companions see her as Anders would be now. Not that there hadn't been temptations along the way; she had to admit that before Sebastian, Anders had intrigued her, and Fenris…well, she truly did doubt that anyone could deny being attracted to the elf, with his animalistic, almost passionate, nature. In the end, it had been the one to hold himself from her that had captured her heart. As much as she would have wanted Sebastian to be the one to look on her, she was beginning to think clearly, and to see that, as much as she wanted, it was more likely to never come to this with the prince. He'd taken his rightful place, and would no doubt need heirs, but despite all that, she could not see the man breaking his vows to the Chantry. Not even for her.

Anders pulled his lips from her with a sharp intake of air as his fingers parted the robes completely. He lifted his head and allowed him to look upon his obsession in her underclothes. They did nothing to hide her charms, he noticed, her hips curvy, breasts full and creamy, belly flat and tucked in at the sides, reminding him almost clearly of an hourglass. Her skin was as porcelain beneath her robes as he imagined, and as beautiful as he'd always pictured it to be. He trailed his fingertips over her belly and delighted in her response as she bit her lip, her eyes fluttering shut, and her head falling back. She couldn't help but arch against his hesitant, almost mesmerized, explorations. Those calloused, but gentle, fingertips slid up along her middle, towards the cloth encasing her breasts. Her breath hitched and she shuddered deliciously as he removed her arms from the robes, before slowly pulling the cloth from her chest.

The air was cold and she flushed hotly with embarrassment when her pink nipples hardened in response. She turned her face away and hid it with her hands, but it lasted only a moment before Anders pulled her hands away and forced her to look at him. His eyes were intensely hot and the look on face made the fire building between her legs burn hotly. "Don't ever hide," he whispered, his eyes trailing down to explore what he had revealed. "Don't hide. You're nothing short of a goddess, Necroditei. You're beautiful. You don't ever need to hide from that." He dipped his head down and pressed a kiss to the swell of her breast, his hand gently encompassing its twin. She shivered and then squeaked with pleasant surprise as he flicked his tongue against a peak, his hand gently pinching the other. "Anders!" She gasped his name, squirming a little as she became more and more…uncomfortable.

"Shhh, it's okay." He soothed her even as he continued with what he was doing, this time taking her nipple into his mouth. He drew upon it, lavishing it with his tongue, dragging his teeth across it teasingly, before allowing it to pop free from his mouth; his hand had been doing the same, mimicking his mouth as best he could, to pay attention to her other breast. She was mewling with pleasure, her body growing warmer and warmer under him, arching up into his mouth and hand. Never in his wildest dreams had it even begun to compare with the real thing.

He withdrew, but only long enough to strip himself down to his breeches. She'd propped herself up on her elbows to watch him with now molten mercury eyes, her tongue wetting her lips as more and more of his skin was revealed to her. Once he was in his breeches, and only those, he crawled back to her, slowly laying her back down. "Are you sure?" He questioned her one last time, giving her one final chance to push him away from this. She nodded softly. "Are _you_ sure?" she retorted. He copied her actions and nodded, before leaning down to kiss her deeply.

His hands trailed down from her breasts, exploring her dainty ribs, her flat belly, and then along her sides to her shapely, feminine hips. "So beautiful," he mumbled against her lips as his fingers his fingers hooked into the sides of her smallclothes, slowly beginning to pull them from her body. He followed, planting a kiss on every part of her body that he could. He kissed her breasts, her bellybutton, her hips, her thighs, knees, ankles, and toes. Once she was bare, he undid his breeches and allowed himself to strip to his own smallclothes, watching her eyes widen a touch when she saw the straining bulge that was meant for her and her alone. He took her hand and pressed it against him, groaning hotly as she wet her lips, hesitantly exploring the contours of his erection.

He allowed this for a moment, before pulling her hand from him to pull off what was left of his clothes. In an instant, he was as vulnerable as she. Both were bare and neither of them had anything left to hide behind. He blanketed her, kissing her deeply, passionately, as if he meant to consume her. His hands kneaded her breasts, plucking at her nipples gently to tease her; as he did this, he began to move himself closer, cradling himself in her hips. His length gently probed at her center and she gasped, biting her lip as she arched into him.

His hands lifted to her face and he forced her to look deep into his eyes. "I love you," he said just as he thrust himself into her hot sheath, nearly dying from the feel of her around him. If he died now, he would at least die happy.

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><p>Hawke stirred after a bit. She made a noise and slowly allowed her eyes to open, finding herself locked with the embrace of a fellow runaway. It all came back to her then, what they'd done; as if she could forget about it, not with her body aching so deliciously in the aftermath of it all. It had been beautiful and for a little while, she had truly felt loved. Even if she could never love Anders like he wished her to, she would always be thankful to him for this. Even if he hated her for what she was about to do. She laid her hand across his brow and murmured a few words softly; this, at least for now, casting a temporary sleep spell over him. She had done this before, with her siblings, when she snuck from their home in Lothering to go practice her arts. She had never been in the circle, so after her father had died, she'd had to teach herself.<p>

Once she was sure the spell was holding, she leaned forward and kissed his lips softly. "Forgive me for breaking my promise, Anders. I will try my best to come back to you, but I am not about to let you risk your life for me, not after what I went through to make sure you kept it. Thank you." She rolled out of his arms and gathered her robes, quickly dressing herself, before sliding her boots back on and grabbing her staff from the wall where, in some part of their moment, they had set it to rest. She took his robe and laid it over him, not wanting to leave him lying here so vulnerable. She looked down at him for a moment, before she turned and moved to the opening to their…love nest, she supposed it was just that. Once there, she turned and cast a barrier spell over the opening; not to keep him in, he could leave if he wished it, but to keep others from going in.

"I'm sorry, Anders. I will be back as soon as I can."

* * *

><p>The mage had been walking through the tunnels for a short time now, making her way through twist after twist, fork after fork, and turn after turn. She worried for a moment she was lost. They had only used this tunnel once in all their years in Kirkwall and it had been to escape the city after the battle between the Templars and the mages. She sighed and stopped, closing her eyes for a moment, thinking. She was sure she was a great deal of the way in, if not close to the exit that would lead her into the city. Opening her eyes, she decided to head up the worn staircase to her left, taking a small walk down what could be considered a hall. Just as she would have reached the door at the top of the staircase there, she screamed out in pain, a trap snapping shut around her foot.<p>

Her legs gave out from under her and she used her magic to pull the trap from around her now shattered, or at least broken, ankle. "I see I have caught a little mouse in my trap," a voice said as an armor clad figure came to stand in front of her. Her heart dropped when she saw who it was. "Knight-captain Cullen, I-" he cut her off with a sharp jerk of his hand. "Knight-commander, Champion." He chuckled briefly. "I almost didn't believe my men when they told me they'd spotted you and Anders heading this way. I didn't believe you'd be so foolish to return." He looked at the expanse behind her. "Though it would seem I only have one mage, and not two. Where is the warden?"

"He isn't with me," Hawke said immediately. Her leg was hurting unbearably but she didn't dare move, not with the way Cullen was looking down at her. His stare was cold and deadly. This was not the Cullen that had stood up to protect her from Meredith, this man she didn't even recognize. She winced and put a hand on her ankle; Cullen watched her closely, but no move to stop her as she cast a heal on the broken appendage. It healed the bone, but the lacerations were still present and continued to bleed. Just as she would have cast another, he jerked her up by her arm. "I have been kind enough. You can deal with a little pain after what you did to the Chantry." He snapped out the words as he shook her, anger more than evident in his features. "Where is the warden?"

Hawke had to bite her lip to stifle small cry of pain as she came to stand on her feet. He shook her, which by all means did not help that pain. "It wasn't me who did that!" She snapped back. "And I told you, he isn't with me. I left him."

Cullen regarded her suspiciously and gave out a sharp whistle. It was even a moment later that a group of Templars came in through the door way, and even some came out from behind her. She should have known they had been walking into a trap, but it was still a surprise that they had known about this place. He spun her and jerked the staff from her back, before shoving her toward the group of soldiers. "Even if you didn't destroy the Chantry, and even if it wasn't you who killed Elthina, it was _you_ who stood by while your _friend_ did just that. You didn't even seek retribution against him for what he did. There for, you are as guilty as he in my eyes." Cullen said coldly as his men gathered up the Champion.

She knew she could fight them off, but there were at least a dozen of them, not to mention the bloody Knight-commander. She wouldn't be able to take them down without losing her own life, not with the bloody, throbbing, cut up ankle she had. She couldn't even stand and really, she wasn't even sure she wanted to fight them. All this time on the run, had she not once thought about how much she did deserved to be punished? As Cullen said, what Anders had done was not only his crime, but hers' as well, especially since Elthina had been her friend.

"Fine, then take me." Hawke said defiantly as the Templars jerked her to her feet. She had to grit her teeth against the pain in her leg, but she refused to go with them all docile like. Cullen allowed a smirk to mar his handsome face; it was a cruel smirk, one filled with satisfaction and plans. "Good, I do believe we have someone who would like to see you."

* * *

><p>Notes: And there you have it. Sad, I know. And It is only going to get worse, but our dear Hawke will pull through. No worries. =)<p> 


	6. Reunion

Notes: So, apparently, my muse refuses to let me stop and let me sleep. Oh well, not as if it is a terrible thing. I enjoy writing, though I am aware that I still have a lot to learn. I am thankful to those of you who have followed along so far and are enjoying my story. Nothing makes me happier than to know you are all eager for more! This pace I have been keeping is ridiculous. Oh well! =)

Warning: Rape, beating, and general mistreatment by the Templar order may be present in this chapter, and upcoming ones. I apologize in advance.

_**Reunion**_

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><p>Anders woke, very groggy and unaware. It took nearly all his strength to simply lift his eyelids. He was in a cave. "Wait…Hawke!" It all came crashing back to him in a sudden barrage of flashing memories. He and Hawke had been attempting a return to the city, but he had become…sidetracked by his fear of losing her. He'd convinced her to let him love her, at least temporarily. They'd come to this cave, where he had made love to her with every ounce of tenderness he had left to offer. Even now, he could still feel her on every inch of his body. That thought made him halt as he came to realize that her body heat was missing from beside him. Maybe she had rolled away from him?<p>

He slowly sat up, finding his robe as it pooled in his lap. "Necroditei?" He asked her name in the darkness, his hand forming a ball of fire to light the area around him. His heart jumped to his throat when he found no sign of her. His eyes turned quickly to the exit, where he could see the faint glow of blue lining the cave wall, roof, and floor; she'd snuck away from him, leaving a barrier in place to keep him safe. "Oh you fool, Hawke!" He growled out the words, though his anger did not inspire Justice to stir. Given their confrontation, Justice was glad to see the obstacle had moved on. "No! We are not leaving her to the Templars!" Anders snapped.

Anders bolted up to his feet, the fire disappearing from his hand as he began to hurriedly dress. He grabbed up his staff and nearly ran from the small alcove, following the route he knew would lead to the entrance that led into Darktown. He didn't take nearly as long as Hawke had, knowing the tunnel as intimately as he'd known all the others; he'd used this tunnel before to help fellow mages escape from the city. It took him only twenty minutes to reach the spot where Hawke had been ambushed, and it was not a pleasant sight when he arrived.

He knelt beside the closed the trap on the ground, eyeing all the blood on the steel and on the ground around it. They had been traveling a long time without any of their rogue companions, so there would have been no way for Hawke to pick out a hidden trap. He swallowed and touched his hand to the steel. He could sense it and it made his stomach heave; the blood belonged to Hawke. And if he dared to doubt that it was, he looked up to find her staff on the stairs, thrown aside rather carelessly. It wasn't even that though, but rather what he saw when he picked it up. He rested it in his hands, his fingers lingering a moment on the red sash tied around one end; the same sash that had once belonged to the sister than she'd lost to the darkspawn. It was what was beneath it that caused him to glow angrily; despite his differences of opinion with Hawke's presence, Justice did not abide by Templars – and there, burned into the wood like a brand, was the Templar emblem.

He tried to deny it, but there was no doubt. The Templars had taken her.

* * *

><p>Hawke's escorts hadn't exactly been the most gracious of hosts. As soon as Cullen had ordered her to be taken, and they had reached Darktown, one of his men had turned to her with far too much pleasure in his eyes, his fist rising to slam against her jaw with surprising force. Her head jerked to the side, blood exploding into her mouth as her eyes rolled back, her body grew limp, and she collapsed. "Perhaps a touch unnecessary, Deccan, but effective none the less," Cullen commented. "Pick her up. She has a guest waiting." Deccan nodded and picked up the unconscious mage, tossing her rather carelessly over his shoulders. His hand rested on her bottom and he seemed to be enjoying it almost too much.<p>

Cullen and his troupe of men made their way from Darktown, to lowtown, to the docks, where they boarded a Templar vessel which in turn took them to the Gallows. None could see the Champion's face as she was carried like a sack of potatoes, so not a single body protested to the way they were treating her. It was common to see this sort of response with mages nowadays and it wasn't as if they were sympathetic, after all, it had been the mages that had nearly destroyed their home.

It didn't take long for them to reach the Gallows. Cullen couldn't help the smug look that came across his features as Deccan showed off their trophy to the rest of the Templar order that was gathered in the courtyard. "We have the Champion, the apostate responsible for the downfall of the Order and the uprising of the mages." Cullen laughed. "Once so great, and now she is at our mercy. With her in custody, it won't be long before we curb this pitiful mage rebellion." The Templars around congratulated him on his retrieval of the runaway. It was short lived, however, as he turned to address them. "She was alone. The other apostate fugitive was not with her. I want you all on your guard and aware. There is no telling if she really split off from him or not." The guards nodded and all began to file off to do their respective duties.

Cullen gestured to Deccan and his second in command turned to face him. "Yes, Knight-commander?" His man was the first to speak, his hands still taking advantage of Hawke's unconscious state. Cullen frowned but said nothing. He didn't always approve of his men's behavior, but he knew deep down that the mages only got what they deserved. The Maker would not see them locked up or mistreated if they didn't deserve it. And after what they'd done to Kirkwall, to the Chantry, it was clear what the blood users deserved. "Take Hawke to my secret office, the one with the restraints. Chain her there and be…civil with her, to the best of your abilities, as I retrieve our guest." He commanded. Deccan nodded with a hearty laugh before he turned away to go do exactly that.

* * *

><p>Hawke's head was pounding. Her jaw was aching and she found that she could not move. "Wakey wakey, magey," a male voice taunted her. Before she managed to open her eyes, her head was grabbed forcefully and shoved into a bucket of ice cold water. She struggled, but to no avail, coughing into the water as it bit into her skin. After a moment, she was allowed to pull free as the force on the back of her head pulled away. She gasped in much needed air and let her head fall back, coughing and wheezing at her close brush with drowning. Dripping water from her soaked head, she shook it, before opening her eyes. The damn Templar that had dared to knock her out was grinning down at her.<p>

She dropped her eyes from him to instead figuring out why she could not move. She found that she was restrained to a chair by chains. They were around her ankles and shins, binding her legs to the legs of the chair. They were around her wrists and arms, binding her arms to the rests of the chair. Chains were even wrapped around her waist, strapping her to the back of the chair, which led to the final chain that lay around her neck. This was a bit different than the others, she noticed, as it didn't bind her to anything in particular. It was just a chain around her neck, seemingly harmless.

Before she could take in anymore, Deccan seemed to be growing impatient with her, and smacked the palm of his hand hard against her already bruised jaw. She cried out in pain and glared at the man. She tried to gather her magic in response, but found that she could not. Sparks jumped to life uselessly around her, only to fizzle and die out within a mere moment. "Ah ah ah, dear Champion, you will find your magic useless here," he taunted as pointed to the chain around her neck. "You are nullified, to put it simply. No magic for you." He laughed. "Now, what to do with you while we wait?"

"Wait?" She narrowed her eyes. "Wait for what?"

"We are waiting for our guest. Someone quite eager to see you though he doesn't know it yet." Deccan replied, kneeling on the floor beside her. Hawke demanded to know who, but the Templar was ignoring her now, seeming to have given her all the information he would be willing to provide. He was grinning to himself as he slid his hand beneath the hem of her robes, sliding the sickening appendage up along her leg. Hawke did her best to squirm, but could not do much of that, only managing to wiggle her hips on the seat of the chair. This only made things worse as it caused her to slide down a tad, to where her bottom was now resting on the edge of the seat.

"Get away from me you disgusting piece of maker filth!" Hawke snapped with a growl.

Deccan sneered at her and rose. He stalked to the desk where some clothes lay, tearing a sleeve off of a tunic that had been mixed in with the other fabrics. He came back to her with a vicious grin and, despite her struggles - vicious cursing, attempted biting – he tied the sleeve around her head, making sure it went across her mouth, stuffing it so she could not make much noise; at least not enough to draw any unwanted attention from wanderers in the halls, should there even be any.

"There, much better." The Templar said with a laugh and he smacked his hand against the top of her head, causing it to ache even worse than it already did. "Now…back to what I had in mind," he mumbled, coming back around to stand in front of her. He smirked and grabbed the bottom half of her robe, grasping the fabric roughly, before jerking it. It made a wrenching sound as it tore open, all the way to where the chain was bound around her waist. She shuddered as he took a moment to enjoy the sight of her bound and half undressed. Tears were fighting their way to her eyes, but she held them back with pure determination. She was not about to give him the satisfaction he sought in her pain. He wanted her to beg, to plead, and to surrender completely.

Hawke had never surrendered in her life, and she was not going to start now. Not even as he took care of his base urges with her, wiping away Anders gift with his horrible excuse for a replacement. She was disgusted and disappeared in her mind to think of Anders' way until Deccan was done with her.

* * *

><p>Sebastian was pacing up and down the hall of the Viscount's keep, apprehension and anxiety eating away at him with every step. Something was amiss. "Oh Andraste, please, please…let her be safe," he said softly as he came to a stop, facing the doors of the keep. Cullen was standing just inside, his arms crossed, and a smirk on his face. Sebastian swallowed hard, but went to the man regardless of his insides screaming at him to do the exact opposite of that. "Knight-commander," the ruler of Starkhaven greeted the man with a nod. "Your highness," Cullen greeted in return.<p>

"What can I do for you?" Sebastian asked.

"I do believe I require your presence in my office. I have something there waiting for you, but I am afraid I will not be able to join you. I have responsibilities to attend to. My guards will escort you, and once you have seen my…gift, you will return to me to discuss your plans to rebuild the Kirkwall chantry. Is this acceptable?"

Sebastian was uncomfortable with the glint in Cullen's eyes, but he nodded despite his wariness. "As you wish, Knight-commander. I will return shortly." He walked past the Templar to take up with his subordinates, being escorted politely enough for the sort of men Cullen looked to for help with the mages.

It didn't take them long to reach the Gallows and the compliment of guard seemed to disappear as they came to the side entrance of the Templar base. Only one man stood there, and it seemed that it would be him to finish escorting him to the Cullen's office, though, now that Sebastian stopped to think on it, he had been to the knight-commander's office before and it hadn't been this route they had taken. "I am Deccan, serah. I will lead you to the office." The man had a wicked grin on his face that made Sebastian sick to his stomach. "Lead the way, then," he said, gesturing for the man to do just that.

They walked for a little bit, but no more than for a few minutes, before they came to stand before a lone, steel, latched door. Deccan took a key from around his neck to unbolt the latches – all four of them. "I will lock the doors behind you, serah. Don't worry," he interrupted when it seemed as if Sebastian was going to protest, "I will let you out when you wish. As this is the knight-commander's secret office, I am not allowed to take chances. Just knock when you wish to leave." The man pulled open the door and Sebastian moved inside, grimacing as it shut with a loud thud behind him. The click and clack could be heard as the man locked it beside him, and Sebastian swallowed again.

Dismissing the door from his thoughts, he turned his attention to the room. It was dark, but at least dimly lit, large, and much too spacious for a simple office. It was a big room, with cabinets, a large desk, and wardrobe. There seemed to be a small alcove toward the back, just before the windows, off to the left side of the room; it seemed to dip into the structure, almost if it were meant to be a closet, but there was no door. He frowned, but jerked when he heard a slight disturbance to the silence around him, that sounded almost like movement. He took his bow off of his back and strung an arrow, his piercing blue eyes moving to that small, hidden area. He slowly moved towards the noise, inching across the floor.

"Who's there?" he asked.

There was a sound almost gasp-like. Then he could have sworn he heard sobbing and a muffled _'Sebastian'_. His brows came together sharply over his eyes and he frowned. "I am coming around the corner. If you mean me harm, I warn you, my grandfather taught me well. My arrow will not miss your heart." When he was satisfied the warning had been given long enough to be digested, he lowered his bow enough to move quickly towards his goal. The light here, on the desk, was lit and provided much needed light as he came around the corner to peer at what had caught his attention.

The bow dropped from his hand and clattered on the ground, along with the arrow, due the sudden numbness in his fingers. "Hawke…?" he questioned it only briefly, that it was indeed Hawke in that chair, chained and bound. Her clothes torn, bloodied, and a gag tied around her head to keep her quiet, her hair tangled and in disarray. There were bruises on one side of her face, an ankle torn and bleeding, bruises on her exposed thighs. "Oh maker, Hawke!" He dashed forward, moving to her side to undo the gag in her mouth, allowing the fabric to fall, forgotten now. She was trembling uncontrollably, he noticed, as he did his best to undo the rest of her bindings. Being a rogue, it was easy enough for him, no trap or constraint too difficult for him to disarm.

As soon as she unchained, she jerked from the chair and tumbled free; it was apparent she could not stand and as soon as she attempted to do so, she fell to the floor. He was at her side in an instant, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Hawke, what's happened to you?" he questioned as he looked her over once again. "Templars…your damned Templars!" She snapped out as she scrambled away from him, her back now pressing against Cullen's desk. Her silver eyes were flashing dangerously, magic beginning to build up inside of her, demanding to be released, but only to come up short as useless sparks because of the chain around her neck. She growled as he came closer. "Stay back! You _left me!_ You said you loved me, but you left me!" She was yelling now, unable to control her anger, her bitterness, and her disappoint in him.

Sebastian was at a loss for words, looking upon the shell of a woman who had once been strong enough to take on all of Thedas. He had never seen her reduced to this; not when her mother died, not when Isabella left, and certainly not when he had left. If only she had killed Elthina's murderer, he would have never left her, but as he looked down at her now, crying and losing it on him, he doubted the conviction behind his decision to leave.

"Hawke –" He reached for her again but stopped when sparks danced over her eyes.

"Don't touch me…" she growled out. "I can't stand the touch of you…you…you damned betrayers anymore!" She smacked his hand away from her. "You see what they have done to me? And do you still question why we wanted to be free from the circle, and free from the Templars?"

"No – I don't doubt that now…but not all mages are like you," he whispered in defeat. "You, I can understand, but there are others out there who deserve retribution for their actions."

Her eyes wavered and, what little magic she'd summoned, disappeared into nothingness. "You are right, Sebastian. Not all mages are the same. Not all of us are good…" she trailed off, drawing what little of her robes that were left around her barely clothed for form. He searched her over desperately, and then realized what it was that she was going to say. "Not all of you are good…but not all of you are bad either. I know." He didn't allow the distance anymore – his promises, his vows, his anger, all forgotten as he saw how broken she really was.

His arms closed around her and for a very brief moment, she resisted, before she slumped into him without another word. Just as he had, she forgot everything in that moment. She forgot that he left her, that he hated her, and that they were enemies now. They both forgot, for now.

* * *

><p>Notes: Alright, I didn't want to stop here but I need to think about where to go next and what to do. Hmm. Please review and I will update again soon! We will need to see what happens next and what our little Anders is up to! =)<p> 


	7. Tortured

Notes: I apologize for my spelling errors and somewhat jumbled sentences at times. My mind runs a million miles an hour at night, so that's when I write, but being tired, I sometimes only half pay attention to what I'm doing. I also read crazy fast sometimes, and overlook when proofreading. I will be doing my best to keep a closer eye out. As I am writing this, I am not sure how this chapter is going to play out. I slept on it, but I am still not sure where to go next, or what exactly to do. I hope you all like it at the end nonetheless. =)

_**Tortured**_

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><p>Sebastian had never been in an awkward silence. It was almost suffocating, but the words he wanted to say were refusing to surface. Come to think of it, he wasn't even certain what it was he wished to say to the trembling woman in his hold. There had been so much to confront her on, so much to uncover, but the moment she had acquiesced to being in his arms, he had, quite simply, drawn a blank. He bit the inside of his cheek, frustrated. It was like he was thrown from his body and was only allowed to observe and not act, or speak.<p>

It turned out to be Hawke who broke the pregnant silence. "There were some clothes on the desk that the guard seems to have forgotten. Could you please retrieve them for me? I am feeling a little…exposed," she said wryly, seeming to just realize she was sitting there in the tattered remains of her robe. Thank the Maker her small clothes hadn't been rendered useless. She wasn't sure if she could handle any more shame, on top of all the shame she already carried with her.

He nodded but found his eyes looking her over as he slowly released her to stand. She was indeed exposed; though he could be thankful for the fact her intimate parts were adequately covered. He frowned. That wasn't important right now. For once his vows could shove it, he mused as he moved around the side of the desk. Even if she was bare as the day she was born, it wouldn't stop him from comforting her. Not after what she had been through. It didn't take him long to find the clothes she'd spoken of and he brought himself back to her carrying a blouse missing a sleeve, a vest, and a pair of women's trousers.

He held the clothes out to her, but she didn't take them from him immediately. Instead she peered up at him, strands of her fire hued hair hanging in her vision. Her expression was blank. Her eyes moved restlessly across his face, as if searching desperately for something. The moment passed and she gave a weak smile, taking the clothes from his outstretched hand. "Um, would you mind turning around?" She whispered, holding the clothes to her chest as her cheeks suddenly seemed to catch fire.

Sebastian blinked, and then his eyes widened. "Oh. Oh, I'm sorry. Of course." He almost stuttered out the words, his own cheeks tinting red with embarrassment as he did as she asked. He heard movement, and the sound of ripping cloth. He figured she considered her robe a lost cause and was simply discarding of it. As much as he fought it, he couldn't stop unwarranted thoughts from creeping in. He could picture her there, sitting in the light of the lamp on the desk, her porcelain skin tempting him in ways he had forgotten. He had forgotten the needs of his body, the useless lust that had caused him nothing but suffering in his life before the chantry; at least, he _had_ forgotten, until Hawke.

Hawke's eyes watched him as she went through the task of tearing the remaining pieces of her tattered robe from her bruised and battered body. Even though he had his back to her, she couldn't help but feel vulnerable in her state of undress in his presence. For so many years of her life, she had wished for nothing more than this; for Sebastian to see her as the Maker had born her, and to love her as the Maker had intended man to love a woman. Even as the chantry where he had taken his vows lay in ruin, the prince had all but stayed true to them regardless. Even if the structure was gone, and his friend along with it, she knew that he held value of his vows in his heart; even before the love he had confessed to having for her. She was only now realizing that she came second, and would never be first in his heart.

Shying away from these tortured thoughts, Hawke slipped on the blouse and vest, though one of her arms remained bare because of Deccan's fun. He'd silenced her with that missing sleeve and as she started down at her arm, she could not help but think of what that Templar had done to her. Tears began to build in her eyes and she couldn't help the sob that slipped free from her lips.

Sebastian started as he heard her sob and quickly turned around to see that the proud mage was crying once more. Despite the fact that she wore no trousers, he knelt quickly at her side to grasp her face in his hands, though he was quick to gentle his touch as she winced from the pressure against her bruised jaw and cheek. His brows came together over his eyes and that bright blue ocean searched her silver pool. "What is it, Hawke?" He asked worriedly.

She gave a bitter laugh. "Back to that, are we? I suppose you weren't as torn up about this as I was."

For a moment, he was confused. He didn't release her face but instead moved his face closer. "What do speak of?" He inquired curiously; he had an inkling of what she meant, but wanted no misunderstanding between them. There was already too much of that to add more.

"What do I speak of?" She repeated. "You wanted me to be your wife in the chantry, _Sebastian Vael_, Prince of Starkhaven." He winced at the title, his mouth forming into a thin line. She shook her head in his hands gently. "Obviously, this thing – " she waved her hand to emphasis whatever this _thing _was. "It was never meant to be. You are by far too selfish for love."

"Selfish?" He was astounded at that; of all the things he was, he had never thought himself to be selfish. "You are mistaken, _Serah Hawke. _If I was selfish, I would never have taken my vows to the Chantry, I would never have given away my life of pleasure and debauchery to serve the Maker, and I never would have returned to Starkhaven to rule despite my desperate longing to stay with you, despite what you and Anders did."

"I didn't do anything!" She snapped angrily. She jerked her face from his hands and shoved her hands against his chest armor to push him away, but he only clapped his hands over hers to hold them there. "Why does everyone keep saying that I am responsible for the destruction of the chantry and for the death of my _friend_? I did not wield the staff, I did not summon the magic; I didn't _kill _him, I know, but it was Elthina who told me revenge was not the answer! I spared him because I knew it was what she would have wanted me to do!"

Sebastian tried to stay calm, but just as she had grown angry, he found himself doing the same. He tried to calm himself, but all those pent up emotions were raging to the surface. "Yet he remains free, does he not!" He snapped in return, his hands pressing hers harder against him. "In what way has he paid for his crimes? He walks free even now, while _you _suffer for his actions!"

"That was my decision!" She yelled at him, trying desperately to shove him away, but he held her still. "We were coming back to the city together and after we took a few hours to rest, I snuck away and left him!" She had to catch herself when she said rest, because it had almost come out 'took a few hours to make love.' Something moved through her eyes before she looked away from him, ashamed. Who could have guessed that in the same night she finally herself gave in to Anders' pleas, she would come face to face with the object of her inner turmoil? "It would have been so much easier had I let myself love Anders," she whispered, all the anger draining from her in a sudden bout of defeat, "But even now, after everything, even if we hate each other – I still can't remove you from my heart."

He couldn't help the sneer that came across his features at the mention of Anders' feelings towards her. "He would never love you!" He found himself growling the words. "He could never give you a life. He is a murderer, a fugitive, and a man who would put his ambitions before any concern of yours." He released her hands and gently set them in her lap. He squeezed her fingers until she lifted her eyes to look at him. "Surely you have to see that by now…Necroditei."

She pursed her lips together and then gave a sigh. "Help me with the trousers please; I am afraid my leg still isn't able to hold my weight." He blinked a few times and lowered his eyes to her ankle, the one he'd seen bruised, bleeding, and covered with lacerations. "What happened?" He asked as he picked up the trousers and held them open so that she could slip her feet in. "Trap," she mumbled, almost ashamed to admit what had happened. "I am afraid I am not able to avoid them as easily as I did when you were around."

He couldn't help but chuckle at her joking, and almost teasing, tone. He pulled the pants over her knees and up her thighs; he swallowed hard at the feel of her skin sliding across the backs of his fingers. She was as soft as he always imagined, like silk dancing across his flesh. "Lift your hips, please," he choked out, clearing his throat once he realized how husky his voice sounded. She did as he asked, though the stain of red was evident on her cheeks. He slid the pants over her shapely bottom and had to suppress a groan. His hands began to tremble and he finished his task quickly, tying the trousers shut fast, before moving back away from her.

"I suppose I must resign myself to my fate, then," Hawke mumbled, using the edge of the desk to help ease herself to her feet. He was quick to move back to her side, helping her stand so that she could keep her weight off of her injured leg. "Why haven't you healed yourself?" he questioned.

She cocked a brow and looked up at him. "Really? You hadn't noticed your Templar's new little toy?" She touched her free hand to the chain resting around her neck. "It would seem they have found a way to suppress my magic with this…collar," she sneered out. "I am no threat to you, or your Templars, so don't fret." She yanked her arm from him and hobbled to the other side of the room, though he stubbornly followed her. He grabbed her arm again and turned her to face him, holding her shoulders firmly so that she could not pull away from him.

"Would you stop putting words in my mouth, you stubborn fool!" He snapped out with a frown. The frown eased after a moment, and his hands gentled, instead beginning to softly rub the small woman's shoulders. "I was just wondering. The last thing I want to see you in is pain." He said softly. "I know I felt, I know I have caused you nothing but pain; it is contradictory of me to worry now, I know."

"You will have to continue worrying," she said to him solemnly. "The Templars, they know nothing of what it means to treat mages with anything other than cruelty. It isn't just about freedom anymore, Sebastian. It's not even about being made Tranquil." That had been her biggest fear for most of her life. "It's about my life. You see what they've done to me?" He nodded with a frown. "This is only the tip of the iceberg. And with this new toy of theirs, I am incapable of even attempting an escape. What am I without my magic?"

"You don't need your magic to be strong. You have always been strong," he whispered. The torment inside of him was suddenly too much to bear and he lifted his hands to her face. He stared at her for a long moment, letting her silver eyes drown him entirely. His head lowered and his breath fanned her lips, before he gave a soft groan, closing the slight distance until his lips were _finally_ resting against her own. The kiss was gentle, fragile, but she did not push him away, instead she seemed to lean into his lips with a soft sigh.

It was much potently consuming than he had ever imagined, or dreamed of. His whole body seemed to catch fire and he had to step back from her, removing himself completely, before he lost his senses. She seemed sad at his withdrawal, but nodded softly. "Best summon the guard dogs," she mumbled, indicating the locked door before them.

"I swear to you_, _I _will_ get you out of here, one way or another." He vowed. And it was this vow that suddenly meant the most, it meant nothing compared to the vows he'd made before. If the Maker had truly wanted him in the chantry, locked away from the world, then he would have made sure the woman who had captured his heart had remained safe. She needed him, and he wasn't about to abandon her again.

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><p>Notes: This chapter made me smile. =) More soon! Anders will be making his presence known. Fun!<p> 


	8. Warped Justice

Notes: I can't remember the last time I have had to deal with this insistent, nagging need to write. I don't believe I have ever updated my stories, when I wrote under a different name, so frequently. I am actually amazed with myself at the moment; when the ideas keep flowing, I dare not stop. That's good for you though!

I would also like to thank my readers. I never expected to have reviews this quickly and I must let you know that it is probably you guys who give me the drive to continue; I also want to thank my readers who are there, after every chapter, more than happy to leave me a comment. Thank-you! =)

Also! Enter pleasant surprise #1! (and a hint to surprise #2!)

_**Warped Justice**_

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><p><em>We can't risk going in after that burden. <em>Justice commented wryly as Anders paced back and forth relentlessly. The mage growled and shook his head, slamming a fist into the wall of the cavern, not caring that it hurt like hell. "Shut up! I am not going to leave her to the Templars!" Anders spoke defiantly.

_Templars._ The mage and Justice seemed to growl in unison.

"Then we are agreed!" Anders spun around again, and paced to the other side of the cavern hall he was standing in. "I can't just go in and kill everyone. Hawke was right; the Templars have rebuilt and are craftier in their methods if they managed to capture her."

Anders could feel Justice scoff at that. _That has to be it. It couldn't be that she was no match for them. Of course not, Hawke is unbeatable. _

"She did well enough against you," Anders commented with a brow raised. That shut his 'friend' up. "Good, now that I don't have you distracting me, I can actually think."

He turned to face the door that led to the lower part of the city and thought hard. There didn't seem to be any Templars now; of course not, they had captured their prize, so why did they need to bother hanging around for? And knowing his friend, she'd probably done everything she could to convince the Templars that he no longer traveled with her so they wouldn't be tempted to further search the slaver tunnel where they'd found her. He crossed his arms and frowned tightly, tipping his head back to glare at the ceiling.

_There would be no stopping us. They deserve whatever destruction we bestow upon them. _Anders didn't disagree with Justice on that last part, but knew he couldn't just charge in. "I am not risking her life. This isn't about the Templars; this is about saving Hawke and getting her away from them before they do anything to her. If they haven't done anything yet…" he trailed off to silence solemnly. Maker knows how long they'd had her. His hands clenched into fists; because of her sleeping spell, he had no idea how long she'd been in the Templar's custody.

_Not long; few hours at most. _It was shocking that Justice offered him the information. Anders was clueless as to what occurred, but Justice was always aware, no matter what state the vessel was in, save one; and that was death.

"Thank you," Anders mumbled reluctantly. "They have never abused a mage in their custody so quickly. Though, without the circle, who knows what level they have dissolved to." The thought made his stomach turn. So distracted was he that he didn't notice the figure that was standing a few feet behind him now, eyeing him with barely suppressed hatred.

"Well, well. I suppose I should not be surprised to see you here," the elf drawled in his deep voice, the lyrium markings branded into his skin glowing faintly as he glowered at the mage. He'd had the opportunity of surprise; he could have easily appeared behind the man and used his ability to phase to crush his heart, but when he heard what the mage had been muttering, something in him had begged him to wait.

Anders' snapped around, his eyes beginning to glow that deadly blue, a growl on his lips.

Fenris sneered and made a curt gesture with his hand. "Keep your demon at bay, abomination, or I will not hesitate to put you out of your misery; mind you, I'd be more than happy to oblige you if you have a death wish." His eyes flashed dangerously from under silver strands of hair that had, surprisingly, grown even longer in the last year.

Despite his wish to finally shut up the mage-hater permanently, Anders did as he requested and pushed the defiant Justice back from the point of possessing him. He took a deep breath and straightened, glowering at the elf with as much tightly restrained hate that Fenris was displaying toward him. He frowned tightly and crossed his arms across his chest. "What are you doing here, elf?" Anders asked after a moment of tense silence.

"I could ask the same of you, mage." Fenris commented dryly as he cocked his head questioningly. "I believe I overheard something of Templars. Have you returned to finish what you've started?"

_Yes. _"No," Anders said after a minute that seemed to stretch on for a lifetime. "I was with Hawke."

Fenris interrupted him with a scoff, "I find that surprising. I would have figured she would have rid herself of you by now, considering what you have done to her life."

Anders growled again, stepping towards the elf menacingly. "You shut your mouth!" He yelled. "As I was saying," he continued after a breath, "I was with Hawke. We were running low on supplies and, having taken care of almost every slaver group, every raider, every fugitive we came across, we had no choice but to return to Kirkwall. There were no merchants on the road and Hawke…she didn't want to travel to Starkhaven." Fenris didn't ask him to elaborate, knowing full well the reason behind her aversion to that idea. "We thought to use this tunnel because it was the only one she thought the Templars would not have found by now; we were wrong. The Templars have her in custody."

"I see." The elf drawled. "And where exactly were you when they took her? I can't see the Templars passing up two apostates, especially one who destroyed half the city with his actions, and misuse of his magic."

As much as Anders wanted to punch Fenris for that last comment, he knew he had no right to. The elf was right. He hung his head in shame. "Yes, I know they would not pass up the opportunity to arrest me, if not just kill me outright."

"So? Elaborate if you will."

"I…I convinced Hawke to take a break with me in a small alcove back near the entrance." Fenris nodded; he knew of what spot Anders spoke of. "We must have dozed off, because the next thing I know, I was waking up on the ground with a barrier spell across the entrance to the alcove." It was a lie, but it would work nonetheless. Anders wasn't about to divulge the intimate details of what had transpired between Hawke and himself. "She must have cast a sleep spell on me and decided to go into the city alone." His eyes found the blood covered trap on the floor. "She apparently was not successful. I found her staff," he held the staff out to Fenris and he took it, with a brow cocked.

"What exactly am I looking for, mage?" Fenris questioned. Anders pointed to the symbol branded into the wood of the staff. "Ah, I see. That is the Templar symbol is it not?" Anders nodded. "Then there is no doubt that the Templars have her. Though, I wonder; Hawke is a powerful mage, indeed, could she not have escaped by now?"

Anders' face darkened dangerously. "That's one reason I am so worried. It isn't like she couldn't have escaped their custody if she wished. I worry she may have stayed with them willingly. She has been punishing herself, convincing herself she deserved to be locked up, for what I've done."

"That does not…surprise me," the elf commented after a moment. "Hawke has always been forgiving of others, but she never once forgave herself for anything. She continued to blame herself for every death in her family in all the years I knew her."

"Now you know why I am here. I am attempting to figure out how exactly to go about finding Hawke without inciting needless bloodshed." Anders uncrossed his arms with a sigh. "Why are you here? I know we didn't exactly all separate on good terms, but I thought you had decided to go back to Tevinter to destroy the magisters."

"Curious. I would have thought Justice would love the thought of slaughtering the Templars." Fenris shook his head. "I did indeed return to Tevinter. However, it seemed Danarius had alerted the other magisters to my escape. They are even more paranoid and jumpy than they were before. I came back to seek Hawke. Little did I know that I would be the one needing to assist her."

"Are you saying what I think you are?" Anders quirked his brow and scoffed. "You? Willingly working alongside an abomination? I refuse to believe it."

Fenris curled his lip in disgust, his brands glowing bright for a moment before he managed to calm himself enough to speak again. "As much as I detest the idea," he spoke menacingly, "I cannot in good conscious allow the Templars to hold Hawke." For a very brief second, the elf's eyes softened at the mention of her name. It didn't take them long to harden. "She is my…friend. Just as she stood by me, I must stand by her. I will help you, for now, mage."

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><p>Sebastian had reluctantly left Hawke in Cullen's office in the Gallows. If he wanted to avoid needless bloodshed, it was his only option. Her eyes had been sad when Deccan had forced him to go, closing the door behind him, sealing her and the Templar in the room alone. He'd given the man a warning, however. If he dared to lay another hand on the mage, he'd gut him himself. She was constantly on his mind as he made his way through the Gallows to the Docks where he caught the ferry to take him back to Lowtown. He couldn't move fast enough, but the journey from Lowtown to Hightown to the Viscount's Keep seemed to take an eternity. He was sneering by the time he slammed his way through the door that led to the Viscount's office where Cullen was residing behind the desk, waiting for him.<p>

"Welcome back, your highness," Cullen greeted with a lifted eyebrow, his hands folded calmly. There was an evil glint in his eye and a smug, almost satisfied, smile on his lips.

Sebastian had to take a deep breath to calm himself enough not to just put an arrow between the man's eyes. "You are lucky I have not killed you where you stand," he managed to force out. He stood stiff and rigid across the desk from the Templar commander. It was an empty threat the man knew; no one dared to oppose the Knight-Commander after the whole incident with Meredith.

"Why is that? I haven't done anything against the law, or anything disloyal in the Maker's eyes." Cullen said as he moved to stand, coming to eye level with the prince. "Hawke may have been our champion once, messere, but now she is no different from any other apostate; she will be treated as such, though I do believe her crimes are a little more…grave…than those of her apostate brethren."

Sebastian slammed the palms of his hands on the desk with surprising force; he could have sworn the solid thing had rocked. "You will not lay another hand on her! And I say another because your men have already harmed her! The Maker does not condone the mistreatment of a being that has done nothing to warrant it."

"Does not warrant it? Are you delusional now? Have you forgotten what your _friend_ did?"

"She should not be punished for what Anders has done," Sebastian argued. His knuckles were white as he forced his hands into fists; they itched to find a home in Cullen's smug face.

Cullen blinked and then laughed, and he laughed loud, as if the argument thoroughly amused him. "If that were true," he started once his laughter had subdued, "she never would have run in the first place. I am sorry, your highness, but she will not be released from my custody. In fact, I do believe she will be the first mage to take residence in our new little circle."

"I won't let you get away with this," he vowed. "The people will know and they will not allow you to lock up the champion that has time and time again saved them from destruction."

"We shall see, Sebastian." Cullen said dryly. "Champion or not, she is a mage. They are afraid of her. They will not rise to save her, even with you leading them."

"We shall see," Sebastian repeated back to him, angrily stalking out of the Viscount's office, slamming the large wooden doors behind him loud enough that it echoed through the halls. He knew where to go; if he was going to get any help, he needed to check The Hanged Man. If he was lucky, maybe Varric hadn't abandoned Kirkwall as the rest of them had.

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><p>They had decided they were rather conspicuous in the city given their infamous past. Their first stop had been some darktown thugs. After they easily disposed of them, Fenris and Anders had stolen their clothes and hoods, disguising themselves enough to walk among the people without someone yelling for the Templars. As they made their way through the darkness, Anders was sad and displeased to see that his clinic had been dissolved into nothing but a squatter's hovel. He had done some good and it was sad to see that it had amounted to nothing if no one had been willing to step up in his place to help the low income persons of Kirkwall.<p>

"Stop brooding, mage, you're wasting time." Fenris said he looked around them for any signs that indicated that anyone was following them. Once he was satisfied that they weren't being followed, he addressed Anders again. "Our best option is The Hanged Man. The Templars would have traveled through Lowtown to get to the docks. And you know how rumors spread like fire in this city…" he trailed off for a moment, before narrowing his eyes. "Do you know what became of the dwarf?"

Anders raised a brow. "Varric? As far as I know, he stayed in The Hanged Man. He did not have any desire to leave Kirkwall, even after what I caused."

"Good. We will seek him out." Anders seemed surprised. "Before you ask why, and I know you will, we cannot take on the Templars by ourselves. As powerful as we are, you do not know the extent of the Templar Order as well as you once did. They are numerous, fowl, and needlessly cruel, but skilled nonetheless. They remind me more of slavers in Tevinter now; Hawke is in more danger than you know. Come, we must hurry."

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><p>Notes: And I am sure you all see what is coming next. Stay tuned! =)<p> 


	9. Twisted Homecoming

Notes: I apologize for the delay. I am down with the flu; it is starting to go away, thank goodness. I felt well enough to write today, but if it turns out to be short, I apologize in advance. I will try my best to write as much as I can. =)

_**Twisted Homecoming**_

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><p>Deccan was eyeing his charge, a wicked smile having curled his lips unappealingly. "Ah and here we are. As I'm sure you've guessed by now, <em>champion<em>, the Knight-Commander has no intention of letting you slip through our fingers again. Things have…changed in the year you've been on the run, as I'm sure you have changed. We no longer put up with apostates; there are only two options we present. Choice A is the circle, and Choice B is death."

Hawke narrowed her eyes as she leaned against Cullen's desk. "I have no delusions; I didn't expect the Templars to release me. However, there is one delusion here. I defended the circle, but I recall that it was destroyed despite that." Deccan shook with his head with a soft laugh. "You must have forgotten how afraid the masses are of mages," he mused. "It didn't take long to rebuild once you'd left. A large portion of Kirkwall's masses were even willing to become Templars to help fill our depleted ranks – no thanks to you. The circle is finally complete and we are free to file in our…prisoners." He laughed again.

"I didn't exactly see any mages lining up to join your new circle," Hawke taunted; not the best choice, she knew, not when her leg was sending sharp bolts of pain through her, and her body was aching from all the abuse it had been through.

He grinned at her, a wide grin that had her gut twisting unpleasantly. "Well, you see, we have just recently completed our new circle and, when we found out from our men, that the _grand champion Hawke_ would be gracing us with her presence…well, I'm sure you can see where I am headed by now." When she simply stood, staring at him with narrowed eyes, he sighed with gusto and waved him hands with exasperation. "We decided _you_ would be perfect to be introduced to our circle first."

"I doubt there is anything civilized about your _circle_," she spat out, her defiant nature creeping its way to the surface; she was so fed up with the way her people were treated. It wasn't like she'd asked for this! "Really, you Templars are something else. I was born this way; it's not like I went and sought to be a mage, like did when you sought to be a Templar. Yours' is a choice, whereas mine is not."

"That is beside the point," Deccan retorted with a sharp dismissive gesture of his hand. "Mages are a curse on Thedas. There is never a time where mages will be free from demons; there will never be a time where they will never resort to blood magic. If that option forever remains a choice, then we stand vigilant and rid the land of its curse. If we cannot rid ourselves of you, we will lock you away, never to be heard from again." He gestured to the chain around her neck. "We have found a new way to collar you. You mages will never be able to escape the circle as you once did."

"I was wondering about that," Hawke was amazed the man hadn't yet hit her, or retaliated in some way against her for the clear defiant attitude she was displaying toward him, but if she could get any questions answered, she was not about to pass up the opportunity. "What exactly is this?" She questioned as she raised a hand to touch her fingertips to the 'collar'.

Deccan's grin only seemed to grow wider. "It's a secret." Hawke was about to snap something at him but smacked her cheek lightly, almost tauntingly. "Shhh, don't fret. All will become clear in time." He dropped his hand and laughed, this time loud and unhindered. It took him a long moment to subside and Hawke's hands had fallen to her side to clench into angry fists. As much as she wanted to smite him, her magic was rendered useless; as she felt she was. As much as she detested the contraption around her neck, she could, for a minute, be thankful to feel…well, normal. "For once, you will feel as helpless as the rest us," Deccan said once he'd managed to curb his overwhelming amusement.

"I doubt that," she muttered under her breathe.

"We will see, won't we?" She didn't like the gleam that she saw in his eyes when he spoke those words. Hawke had to fight determinedly to keep a sneer from making itself known on her face. In for a penny, in for a pound; she was doomed already, might as well go down fighting.

"Helpless or not, I will never give in. I will fight until my last breathe, even without my magic. You will see; never will I be as helpless as _you._"

"You will regret saying that," Deccan growled, his face growing dark with anger. He glared at her menacingly and then he swung his fist against her unharmed cheek viciously. Her head snapped to the side as she gave a loud groan, her legs caving beneath her weight. She fell to her knees and held her cheek in her hand, wincing with pain and unwanted tears spilled free from her eyes.

Hawke couldn't believe the cruelty of the Templars; it had been bad before, but this was just unbelievable, how far they had fallen. Her eyes almost glowing with hate, she turned them to the man and then spat at his feet. "You're disgusting and a complete waste of the Maker's time." He didn't like that, not one bit, that was obvious as his heavy armor clad booted foot found her midriff with unrestrained force. There was an audible snap and there was no doubt in Hawke's mind, as she cried out in pain, that she had at least one broken rib, if not several. She crumpled over, blood dripping from her lips as her arms held her abdomen.

"You are going to regret taunting me, you stupid _bitch_!" The Templar almost screamed the words in her ear as he leaned down, yanking her head up agonizingly with his large hand tangled in her hair. He wrenched her to her feet and seemed to be delighted as she whimpered in pain. He released his hold on her hair and grabbed her roughly by the arm. "I'll drag you to your room in I have to," he jeered; and he did just that, half dragging the injured mage as she tried desperately to get on her feet and follow him.

They seemed to do this hated dance for a very long time, taking twist after twist and turn after turn. By the time they seemed to be slowing down at last, she was barely on her feet, her injured foot half dragging. Her ribs ached unmercifully. Her vision was spotting black along the edges. She felt undeniably defeated; weak and as helpless as he'd claimed she would feel. Not like she'd show him that, however. He grinned as he stopped moving, inclining his head toward his left to indicate the large wooden door there, held shut by several locked latches. He turned and pulled a ring of keys from his side, beginning the process of unlocking the door, one latch at a time. She very vaguely entertained the idea of bolting, but it only took a moment for him to finish his task before he turned back to her.

She was starting to hate that grin he seemed to like wearing across his face whenever he was around her; it was becoming a warning sign. Hawke had to keep herself for visibly shaking. Her chin was held high, as well as she could manage, when Deccan grabbed her by her arm and proceeded to drag her into the room. What she saw disgusted her to her very core. If they had thought the circle a prison before, they were sorely mistaken.

The room was small, 10' by 10', with only a cot beneath the one window. There was a single chamber pot in the left corner by the door; the cot and the chamber pot where the only furniture to be found. There was a single, worn, dirty rug on the cold, tiled floor and from there her eyes were drawn to a fixture on the right side wall. She couldn't be seeing what she thought she was, could she? In the pale moonlight, it appeared to be a long, maybe 9 foot chain fixed to the wall.

"Welcome home, mage." Deccan said with a laugh, shoving her down onto the cot before moving to grab the long chain. Her body jolted with pain as she hit the hard cot, her eyes watching him as he moved toward her again with what she now had come to realize was her 'leash'. He smirked as he affixed it to the collar around her neck. "I'll be back to have some more fun with you later," he promised before he turned and left the room, the door slamming shut behind him with a finality that made her realize she really was in hell. The sound of the locks falling into place only made that realization more mind numbing than it already was.

When she had decided she deserved punishment for what had taken place in Kirkwall, never, in her worst nightmares, had she even come close to the reality she was experiencing now.

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><p>"I take it our new resident has settled into the circle nicely?" Cullen inquired of Deccan as he strolled in through the office doors of the Viscount's keep.<p>

"Nicely enough," Deccan replied. The knight-commander frowned, but then nodded with approval.

"We may have an issue on our hands."

"I take it the _prince_ didn't like his gift?" Deccan laughed.

"Not a bit, it seems. Have you handled her roughly?"

"No more than any other mage," the Templar said as he paced to the windows behind the desk, before back towards the door. "And don't start spouting preachy shit at me, Cullen. We go too far back for you to fool me like you do the others. Even you said that mages can't be treated the same as you and I. They are not _people_. They don't deserve to be treated with decency; that goes for Hawke too. She may have saved Kirkwall from the Qunari, but she destroyed it to protect her precious mage friends. She is no better than the rest of them." Deccan met Cullen's blue eyes and slowly shook his head. "You can show her no mercy. We decided to make the new circle a prison for a reason."

Cullen tipped his head back and sighed. Whenever he had doubts, Deccan was there to set him right on his chosen path. He dropped his head back down with a stern expression. "Aye, you're right. I am just tired, is all."

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><p>Isabella knocked back another mug full of The Hanged Man's brandy, making a noise of appreciation and shaking her head as she slammed it back down onto the table in front of her. "Aaah! The does an amazing job of hitting the right spot!" She exclaimed as she leaned back, the dwarf beneath her squirming with a chuckle.<p>

"I won't complain about the attention, but you better be careful; Bianca's bound to get jealous," he teased.

"Oh! You and that damned crossbow, Varric; ruining all my fun," she purred against his ear. Her hands pressed to his chest and she scratched at his chest hair, mesmerized. "Mm, all this lovely chest hair. It teases me so," she pouted, before hopping up off of his lap. She continued to pout as she eyed her cup. "I do believe we are out of brandy!" The pirate huffed.

"Then you best go get some more before Bianca decides to bring out her claws," Varric dissolved into a fit of laughter, having had some of the brandy himself. He was never one to turn down a drink, especially if he wasn't the one who paid for it.

"Oh alright!" Isabella exclaimed. "Things were so much more fun when Hawke was around…" she grumbled as she strolled from Varric's room. Her long, tan, and shapely legs carried her down the stairs easily enough, down towards where the barkeep was conversing with what appeared to be two raiders. She pursed her lips thoughtfully; it was unlike raiders to be in The Hanged Man in such a small number.

"Well good evening, men," she purred as she came up behind them, her hands on both of them. They seemed to jolt with surprise and she tightened her hands on their shoulders. "Welcome to our humble abode!" She removed her hands and waited for them to turn to her.

Anders and Fenris had been surprised when they'd heard that voice behind them, not so surprised at the touch; the pirate captain had always been the touchy type, very hands on. They eyed each other, seemed to come to some sort of silent agreement, and slowly turned to face her. The two didn't drop their guard, needing the keep up their façade for the moment. In the year that had passed, Isabella hadn't changed a bit. Whereas Anders and Hawke looked older from their struggles, Sebastian harder from his inner turmoil, and Fenris a touch lightened up, Isabella…she looked the very same as she had the last time they had seen her. It didn't surprise Anders; the pirate had always been the selfish type. She'd probably stayed in The Hanged Man, drinking the days away, without a second thought to what had become of their rest of her companions.

"I am Captain Isabella," she said as she dipped into a rather cordial bow; it had been the same introduction she'd given Hawke nearly a decade ago. When she straightened there was a deadly gleam in her amber eyes. "I trust there is something I can help you with?" She purred as she wet her lips.

Anders glanced at Fenris, suddenly thankful for the headpieces they were wearing. The elf nodded and he glanced back at Isabella, lowering his voice as much as he could without it sounding too artificial. "Perhaps you could do something for us, luv'. We are looking for Varric Tethras. Do you know where he might be? We heard he was staying here."

Isabella cocked her brow and, after a moment, burst into laughter. "Ah! I see," she had to take a deep breathe to calm her laughter. "Here I was worried that you'd start a brawl, not that I'm not up for a good brawl, mind you. Varric has so many admirers these days, come for stories of the Champion! Mm, that dwarf with all his chest hair sure does know how to tell a story." She moved past them then and asked the barkeep for another pitcher of brandy. "Come with me," she said with a wink, turning and heading back up the stairs from where she'd come down not too long ago. Anders and Fenris followed without a word.

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><p>Sebastian pulled his arrow from the forehead of a dead thug who'd attacked him in a group not shortly after he had entered Lowtown; Hawke had once cleared out all the gangs in Kirkwall, but it seemed the streets were no longer safe. He slipped the arrow back into the quiver hanging on his back. He said a quick prayer for them, half-heartedly, before going back to his current task. He came around the corner and saw the door to The Hanged Man shutting behind two more thugs; well, what he assumed were thugs. They more appeared to be raiders. Not that there was much of a difference in his opinion.<p>

"Maker's breathe, can I not have a moment's peace?" he said on a sigh, slinging his bow onto his back. He didn't want any more trouble that was necessary. Maker only knows what Hawke was experiencing while he sought out help to free her from the Templar's custody; bloody hell, what was this woman doing to him? He would never have opposed the Templars a year ago.

"A crisis of faith," he grumbled as he crossed the street to the door of The Hanged Man. He entered just as a lively enough conversation seemed to have reached its conclusion. The two raiders he'd spotted before had been speaking to someone who he could not see yet, but the woman came back a moment later with a pitcher in her hand. He let out an exasperated breathe. "Isabella…she never changes," he muttered.

She gestured for them to follow her and they did, the small troupe disappearing up the steps towards the rooms. "Surely she can't be thinking…with two…?" He trailed off, deciding he shouldn't be surprised. He shrugged his shoulders with a shake of his head and decided his best bet on gaining information would be to the barkeep; patrons could never keep their secrets when they were drunk.

"Excuse me, good sir," he approached the bar and set a small stack of copper coins on the wood top. "I need some information."

The barkeep laughed and took the copper into his hand, examining it for a moment before giving a nod. "Ye lookin' for the dwarf as well?" He inquired.

Sebastian's heart leapt to his throat and he had to swallow to keep his nerves calm. "As well, you say?"

"Aye. The two that were 'ere before, they were looking for the dwarf too. Was about to tell them 'e 'ad a room upstairs still. Don't believe the man 'as ever left The 'anged Man for no longer than 'e 'ad to. Isabella took care of them, she did."

"Thank-you." He turned and made quick steps to the stairs, taking his bow from his back and lacing an arrow in it as he climbed the steps. Hawke was already in danger; maker forbid Varric was now as well. "Cannot get a moment," he muttered as he kicked open the shut door that led to Varric's room and entered, his bow at the ready.

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><p>Notes: Next chapter soon! I have no voice because of my flu, so I guess I will just have to write. XD<p> 


	10. Planning

I am so sorry about the lack of updates. I know it mentioned it before but I have no internet at this time. I am taking the laptop with me to get coffee at Starbucks to update. Heh. I will try to update once a week or so, and try to make sure the updates are worth the wait!

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><p>"More avid listeners for my glorious tales of The Champion of Kirkwall?" Varric asked as he crossed his feet on the table before him, his arms folded neatly across his abdomen.<p>

"Why of course, Varric! Who else would I bring to you?" Isabella said with a sultry laugh. "Though, they could have come for the…exotic delights."

The two men looked at each other and inside the helms, both Fenris and Anders inwardly groaned. She _would_ assume that. Before they could think to reveal themselves, or even speak, the door slammed open with a resounding _thwump_ as it hit the wall and bounced hard. They all jumped defensively and, as Sebastian made his way into the room, he found all eyes on him and hands poised to draw weapons.

When Varric saw him, the dwarf let out a relieved breath and took his hand off of Bianca's handle. His eyes couldn't hide his surprise, however, and he straightened up in his seat. "Why if it isn't the renowned Prince of Starkhaven!" Varric exclaimed. "There is no danger here, Sebastian. You can put away your bow."

Isabella and the 'raiders' she had brought to Varric seemed to have relaxed as far as Sebastian could tell, so he nodded and put away his grandmother's bow. He moved into the room and shut the door behind him, quietly this time. He crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head towards the helmed men.

"Enthusiastic story seekers, according to our lovely Sea Queen, Isabella, here." Varric assured him.

Before a word could pass the prince's lips, one of the said men stepped forward with a shake of his head. "A little more than that," he said. The helm was gone quickly enough, landing on the table hard as Fenris shook his head to ease up his helm flattened silver hair. Isabella purred with delight and sauntered toward the elf with a rather persuasive sway of her shapely, enticing hips.

"Fenris! What a delicious and rather _pleasant_ surprise!" Isabella said with a sly smile. "You have a change of heart and come to play?"

Fenris shook his head with a frustrated scowl; really, would Isabella ever lay off of trying to get him into bed? "Keep dreaming, Isabella," he muttered with a smirk. He turned to find Sebastian watching him intently. "I can safely assume as to why _you_ are here," he mused as Isabella huffed with a pout and made her way back into Varric's lap, her hands smoothing over her favorite part of the dwarf – the ever so tempting chest hair.

Sebastian's brows pulled tight over his eyes. He eyed the other helmed man suspiously. "This is a touch too convinient," he finally said. "Am I to assume that your friend is also a former member of our little group? Pray tell, whom have you brought? Merrill? No…too tall. Aveline?"

"Not so lucky, Choir Boy," Anders said as his hands quickly disposed of his helm, dropping it down beside Fenris'. When the prince realized who it was he was staring at, his bow swung out, an arrow notched before any of them noticed. He set it free with a _twang_ of the bow string and the bolt soared toward the mage like a bullet. Anders moved quickly, a hastily cast haste spell causing his movements to become temporarily boosted with superhuman speed; as soon as he arrow buried itself in the wall behind him, Sebastian's body unwillingly froze. The green blaze beneath his feet alerted him to realize that Anders had cast a paralyze glyph on him.

Sebastian found himself snarling angrily. "Release me this instant! I have every right to put an arrow in your decietful heart!"

Anders held strong and didn't so much as let the paralyzed man budge an inch. He narrowed his eyes at Sebastian and said, "If you so much as look at me wrong, I will make impossibly quick work of you." The mage then released him from the power of the glyph. The mark beneath Sebastian's feet flared brightly efore disappearing and he, very reluctantly, put his bow away for the second time.

Fenris cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head. "You two done marking your territory?" He questioned. "That way we can get to the business at hand?"

The two men glared at each other with intense hatrred as the rest of them watched on tensely. After a _very_ long moment they both nodded but did not let down their guard. Varric clapped his hands together. "Excellent, my friends! Now, why don't you tell me what it is that I can do for you?"

"It's Hawke –"

"Hawke's been – "

Both Sebastian and Anders broke off to look at each other. "Hawke put a sleeping spell on me when we took a break in the caves, but I found where the Templars had captured her. I came here with her." Anders said as he eyed the prince thoughtfully. "You though…what do _you_ know of Hawke's capture?"

Sebastian glared at Anders for a moment. Then he sighed. He gestured for everyone to get comfortable as he made his own way to the large table. Anders and Fenris took seats across from him, and Isabella moved from Varric's lap to sit a little too close to the elf. Despite his obvious displeasure at her persistant advances, which he always vehemently discouraged, Isabella made no effort to keep herself from the elf. Sebastian remained standing, leaning to brace his hands on the wooden surface. Isabella and Varrics seemed to have thrived well enough since the battle in Kirkwall, whereas he, Fenris, and anders had all suffered in their own ways.

He eyed Varric, his body tense. "As you all know, I'm sure, I returned to home to take my rightful place as the Prince of Starkhaven," he paused to glance at Anders. "I did it to build my army, for my revenge on _you_, for the Chantry, for Elthina, and even for Hawke." Though the mage nodded, Sebastian could see his hands were balled into fists. "It's because of that I formed a tenacious alliance with Cullen, who has taken place of Meredith as the new Knight-Commander. He's the one who has been rebuilding the Templar order."

"Wasn't Cullen one of the understanding ones?" Isabella asked, surprising them all by showing she actually gave a shit about something other than her sexual interest in Fenris – at least in _this_ moment. She had even turned toward the table, elbows braced on it.

Anders scoffed and crossed his arms.

"Yes, Anders, we know," Fenris said, eyeing him with his sharp green eyes. "From what I recall, Cullen took Hawke's word on every situation. For instance, that boy whom I was certain was possessed – Hawke assured Cullen that he was demon free, and what happened? He allowed the boy back into the order; under guard, that is still usually unheard of."

Anders sighed and forced himself to relax again. "I suppose in some instance he was…compassionate," he finally admitted.

Sebasian slowly shook his head. "He may have been that way before, but…something happened to him. He is not, nor does he want to be, compassionate or understanding. We thought Meredith was extreme in her methods and cruel? Cullen has become twice what Meredith was. He has rebuilt the order – if that is what you can call it now – with very unsavory men. Thugs, rapists, and I would even daresay, murderers. He's literally taken on anyone willing to join. Men who want control over others, especially over women." He could see the growing concern. In Anders' case, all he saw was anger – it made Sebastian remember what Anders claimed to have gone through in the circles and that the mage would never want the woman he loved to go through any of what the Templars dished out(he held no delusions in that – he knew anders was in love with Hawke, that he had always been).

Anders found his hands balled into fists again. "So Cullen is behind this then," he stated.

Sebastian nodded. "He is sure that Hawke and I still love each other." He didn't bother to elaborate here, instead just sighed softly. "I had asked Cullen to keep his eyes and ears open for you and Hawke. I wanted you both for my own – I was consumed with vengeance. Something I am sure you understand, Anders." The mage's lips were pulled tight and his eyes flashed dangerously, but he nodded to Sebastian's words. "Cullen promised to tell me if either of you were spotted – alone, or together, it didn't matter. He also promised that I, and I alone, would take you both as…prisoners of war. He lied. He was leading me astray the entire time. He wanted my eyes, my help in finding you. He promised me anything I desired in return for my cooperation. I had no idea what he was really up to; rebuilding the order with trash, turning the circle literally into a prison – they even found a way to block a mage's magic _without _making them Tranquil."

Anders bolted upright with wide eyes. "They what?"

"Cullen had his second-in-command take me to see Hawke – his twisted idea of a gift to me – and she wasn't able to use even a fraction of her magic. She told me that the chain-link collar they'd placed around her neck had either nullified or supressed her magic."

Fenris frowned tightly as Anders seethed in silence. "If the order has been rebuilt with men as bad as Sebastian insinuates, this is no doubt their solution for their sick and twisted kinks. They get off on the pain and suffering of those who are helpless against them. Hawke always told me Tranquil mages feel nothing. To men like that, there is no point in torturing a body with no conscious life, no emotional reactions. Mage's magic is always a threat if they are not made tranquil." Fenris ignored Anders' angry glare. "The order must have found a way to achieve exactly that – cut off a mage's magic without severing their soul, their emotions, their personalities, their tie to the Fade."

Sebastian and Anders both stared at the elf in obvious disgust. Despite his lack of support of mages, Sebastian would never welcome such treatment on anyone, mages or otherwise.

"How? How is it even possible?" The question was on everyone's mind, so whom actually asked it wasn't obvious.

Varric leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest, just as confused as the rest of them. "I was led to believe that the only to get rid of a mage's magic is the Rite of Tranquility – to cut off a mage's tie to the Fade."

"That _is_ the only way," Anders said firmly, obviously in denial.

"Denarius used Lyrium in a way once thought impossible with you, Fenris. Any ideas?" Sebastian asked as he finally took a seat at the table and leaned toward the warrior.

"Denarius used some sort of ritual to infuse the Lyrium into my flesh," Fenris said after a very long, tense moment – obviously not eager to share the details of what he'd been through, but if it was to help save Hawke, who was he to say nothing. "He has tried many before me and many after me – I was the only success. I am not certain as to why. It could have been because of me, or that combined with the right circumstances, and ingrediants, spells – who knows." He paused for a thoughtful moment. "'I can say with confidence that I am certain that a ritual was needed to infuse the catalyst – whatever it may have been – into that collar, the very thing that is allowing the collar to block her connection to her magic."

"What could possibly do that?" Varric asked.

As the conversation intensified, Sebastian tipped his head back thoughtfully and didn't notice that Isabella had found it in her best interest to admire the exposed column of tan, muscular flesh, silently licking her lips at the unexpected treat. It quieted for a few moments as they all tried to figure out an answer. Isabella managed to find the willpower to rip her eyes from Sebastian's tempting flesh.

"That Rite of Tranquility? Does anyone know how it works?" she asked.

Four pair of eyes found Anders and he sighed, shaking his head slowly. "It's a closely gaurded secret, even in the circle. Mages aren't even told that they will be made Tranquil," he said, tapping his fingers on the table top. "Whatever goes on, I can safely say it can't be good."

Fenris turned his attention to Sebastian and pointed a finger in his direction. "You," he started, "you sat you've seen Hawke. How is she? Is she alright?" The elf tried to keep his cool, detached demeanor, but Sebastian could hear the concern and see his genuine worry in his eyes.

"As well as you could expect," he replied. "She can't heal. Last time I saw her, she had a severely lacerated ankle, a black eye, split lip, and a score, or more, of scrapes, and bruises." He had to supress an angry growl himself, but was happy to see that he was not the only angry one. He heard Varruc whisper 'poor Hawke' under his breath as silence fell all around the table.

"Do you know where she is being kept?" Isabella asked.

Sebastian shook his head. "She was in Cullen's office in the Gallows. However, I know they meant to take her to a more permanent residence within the prison."

"So she could be anywhere," Anders muttered. It may slow his plans to rescue her, but it would not stop them. He was not about to leave Hawke in the Templar's hands.

"That won't stop us," Varric said with a laugh. "After everything Hawke has done for us, we aren't about to leave her now. Bianca needs to have some fun anyway."

They all nodded and then Isabella stuck her lower lip out in a pout, crossing her arms under her chest to push up her breasts enticingly, until they were almost spilling from her dress. "So many delectable choices – " she sighed "all work and no play."

Anders shook his head. "Same as always aren't you, Isabella?"

"I wouldn't leave Hawke either," Isabella defended as she leaned forward to allow Sebastian a rather generous view of her cleavage as her breasts strained for freedom. "I just like to _play_, too." She winked as she licked her lips.

They all laughed in their own way and Fenris shook his head, propping a foot on the table as they all settled and began their plans.

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><p>Hawke held in her tears as she laid on the terrible cot the prison provided her. Her whole body ached and she just wanted to go back to those hours with Anders, or those days before Anders destroyed the chantry. She shut her eyes and grit her teeth, clenching her hands as she tried to follow that connection to the Fade, to try and find that thread that tethered her to her magic. It didn't work. Every time she tried, she came up against a wall – figuratively speaking.<p>

She was utterly helpless. A strange turn of the tides – for once, it wouldn't be Hawke that would do the saving. She had to trust in Sebastian, and Anders. Those two would never give up, she knew that.

The final confrontation between the three of them…she groaned. What had she managed to get herself into this time? Maker only knows.

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><p>Hope you all like the update! :) If you do, make sure to review! It's what motivates me!<p> 


	11. Unexpected

I got a little stuck, but without further ado – here is chapter 11! Written while listening to the awesome, inspiring song "Uprising" by Muse. Chorus may or may not make a cameo :)

Thank-you for the reviews! I appreciate even one so much! Even if one person enjoys my writing, I am happy.

This story was aimed to be Sebastian/Hawke, but I have decided that I will let the readers choose the ending, whether or not she will be with Anders or Sebastian. Once we get to the second to last chapter, I will take votes. We're getting close, so make sure to review so I feel motivated to finish! :D

Disclaimer: Sad, sad day. I, Anjeru, do not own anything of the DA universe. D:

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><p>Anders and Sebastian would be in separate groups; there was no negotiation in that. He may have forgiven Hawke, but there was no way – unless it was <em>absolutely <em>necessary – he would forgive the mage; _he _had been the one to destroy the chantry, kill Elthina, and then _defended_ his actions as if it had been the right things to do. There was_ no way._ Sebastian had pulled Varric to the side and explained this in great detail, so the dwarf had returned to the group and declared to _'better their chances'_, they would be splitting into two groups. Varric picked the groups and they planned a coordinated, but stealthy, assault on the Gallows. Sebastian and Varric would be going to the Keep to speak with Knight-Commander Cullen to _see_ if there was any way they could bargain for Hawke's release; in the meantime, Anders, Fenris, and Isabella would be sneaking into the Gallows to rescue her – if it could be done. Even if they managed to get her out, there was no telling what the collar would mean for Hawke. If they could not release her from it, she would forever be without her magic. The prince half-heartedly thought, for a moment, that would be the better outcome, that Hawke could, for the first time in her life, live as a normal woman.

"So! Choir Boy, you think this is gonna work?" Varric asked aloud as they were walking through the abandoned market courtyard of High Town. He was spinning a bolt around in his fingers as he had the day he'd first met Hawke.

"It has to," Sebastian said firmly as they progressed around the corner and stopped to look at the staircase that would lead to the Keep. "Hawke is strong but I fear she does not stand a chance without her magic."

"Hopefully Blondie and the other will find her."

Sebastian scowled. "Don't worry, Fenris and Isabella wil find her."

Varric turned to look at the prince, the bolt now having frozen in-between his index and middle fingers. "I see you purposely avoided conversation about Blondie. Still bitter?" the dwarf asked.

"Bitter? _Bitter? __**Bitter?**_" The prince had to keep himself reigned in so he wouldn't take his anger out on his friend. And Varric _was_ his friend. "I am not bitter. _**Blondie**_," he spat out the nickname, "is a murderer. Do you think if he had not blown up the Chantry and killed Elthina, Hawke would be in The Gallows right now?"

"You never know. That's the tricky thing about fate – you never know what could happen. If Blondie hadn't destroyed the Chantry, Meredith may have killed all the mages, including Hawke, as she had intended to do from the very beginning."

"Blowing up the Chantry is what drove Meredith to that final resolution."

"It was only a matter of time, Choir Boy. Only a matter of time." Varric shook his head and started up the staircase, pausing at the top to turn back. "You coming?"

Sebastian sighed and started up the staircase after him; as much as he hated to admit it, Varric had a point.

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><p><em><strong>We are wasting time here.<strong>_

Anders inwardly sighed. Justice was inputting his opinion again, whether or not Anders wanted to hear it. Choosing to ignore it, the mage held a hand out to inform the two behind him to halt. They had just come into the courtyard outside of the Gallows. He ran his amber eyes roved the area intently; he was expecting to find anyone in the dead of night. Indeed the armor and weapon merchant had retired for the night, and no guards stood posted; why would they be? It's not as if there were mages left in the _circle_; Hawke had decimated it after he and Justice had decimated the Chantry.

_**It was as they deserved. They all need to pay. Justice will always prevail, no matter the obstacles.**_ Justice reminded him with firm conviction. Anders ground his teeth in silent irritation. Justice's _conviction_ had hurt Hawke time and time again, and last time, had nearly killed her. He was not about to let the spirit about to cause even more harm. As far as Anders was concerned, the spirit had had his last adventure in this world; he wasn't getting out again. _**We shall see.**_

Anders scowled.

"It's clear," he whispered back to Fenris and Isabella. "Isabella, you stealth yourself and make your way inside. Find Hawke, then return here; we will be squatting in wait behind Solivitus' supply carts." Vaguely he wondered why the Templars had kept the mage vendor, but he quickly set it aside for now. Isabella nodded and before Fenris or Anders could say a word, the rogue melted past them into the shadows and disappeared.

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><p>Isabella had managed to find the Gallows prison vastly unguarded; the new Templars seemed to be overly confident and cocky. Or just lazy, she mused as she passed housing quarters for the soldies whom all were sleeping and snoring like pigs. The building she found though, was much bigger than it had used to be, and contained what one would call torture rooms. Frowning, she hoped Hawke hadn't been here long enough to endure any of that, yet. Keeping to the shadows, she continued on her search for her friend and fled up the twisted staircase leading to the second floor. Once she reached the top, she froze and listened intently. She heard noise. She kept to the wall, her fingers tight on the daggers at her sides as she tried to move closer without alerting the cause of the noise to her presence. Cocking her head, she listened.<p>

"_You can do whatever you want to me, but I won't break. In fact, I will kill you with pleasure." _Her eyes widened slightly – that was Hawke's voice! But who was she talked to?

There was a loud crack of sound and a girlish cry of pain, that was instantly stifled with a shuffle of bodily noises. _"Just wait until I take you downstairs, __**Lady**__ Hawke. You won't be so defiant then,"_ a male voice taunted her with a cruel laugh. _"The Knight-Commander is expecting retaliation from your precious prince; little does he know that when he steps foot inside the keep again, he will be killed."_

"_You wouldn't!" _ She heard Hawke yell. _"You'll start a war!"_

"_Don't you think it's a little late for that? I do believe you and that abomination started this war."_ The man grunted with a laugh. There was another loud sound and then a thump as a body hit the floor. Isabella couldn't wait any longer. Stealth be damned! She gripped her daggers in a deathly tight grip and bolted down the hallway on impossibly fast feet, straight toward the direction of where the voices had come from. She noticed that only one door had multitudes of locks on it, all of which were unlocked save for one that was just simply latched; it could be undone by the occupant of the cell, but there would be no point in that if all the other locks were locked.

Crouching down beneath the cut out window against the cell door, she listened. There were no voices now, but she heard scuffling and whimpering, struggling. Very cautiously, she lifted herself up enough to glance over the edge of the barred window and cringed at the sight; Hawke was chained, obviously, to some kind of contraption holding her to the wall by a long chain, and pinned, struggling, beneath a very large man who wore obvious Templar armor. He was in the process of ripping at her robes, exposing Hawke's supple, lanky, pale thighs, groping at every inch of flesh that was revealed to him. His spare hand was working at something she couldn't see from this angle, but was certain that it was him working out his hard on to which he would then use on the struggling Hawke to get his jollies. Isabella slowly slid back down to crouch, very quietly pressing her index finger against the edge of the lock, opening it as slowly as she could manage to avoid alerting the man inside. It clicked, ever so softly, when it unlocked and she froze, waiting to see if the struggling pair inside had heard. When the struggling continued, the rogue assumed the hadn't heard. She took a deep breath and steeled herself because the next bundle of seconds were going to be crucial.

In a split second, she had the door open and was on the man's back before he could turn his head. He howled in rage and surprise, rearing up off of her mage friend, turning this way and that to try and get the rogue off of her. Gritting her teeth, Isabella held on tightly with one hand, desperately working the dagger up as she tried to stay on him. In the next second, the dagger was buried in the side of the man's neck. He screamed and gurgled, throwing her off and into the wall. Isabella grunted, but jumped to her feet and moved to Hawke's side as the man stumbled out of the room, clutching his throat, before he proceeded to fall forward on his face and ceased to move.

Isabella knelt beside Hawke. "Are you alright?"

"Isabella, oh Isabella, thank the maker!" Her friend started crying then and threw herself on the rogue, embracing her tightly. Isabella rubbed her back and held her for a long moment; Hawke looked to be worse for wear. She had bruises everywhere, a sorely lacerated ankle, split lip, ripped clothes, tangled hair, and she was filthy, with blood staining her skin and robes.

"Sh, sh, it's alright, love. We've got you now," Isabella soothed.

Hawke lifted her head and looked at the pirate with wide, tear-filled eyes. "We?" she asked cautiously.

Isabella nodded. "Yes, we. Anders and Fenris are outside. I was meant to find your cell, then go back, but when I saw and heard that pig attacking you, I couldn't just leave."

Hawke nodded and looked out the door, where they could see the booted feet of the dead man laying just ouside. Then she jolted and looked back. "Wait! Anders is with you?" Isabella nodded then too. "Oh thank the maker," Hawke sighed. "I am surprised to see you without Varic," she then commented.

"Oh he is, sort of. He went to the keep with Sebastian to barter for your release."

The little mage's eyes widened. "What! But Deccan said Cullen was going to have him killed if he returned! We have to get to him, he's in danger!" She then started to stand, wincing, and make her way to the door, coming to a stop when her 'leash' pulled tight. She scowled. "Can you do something about this?"

Isabella went to her and began the process of picking the chain apart from her collar, eyes looking up now and then at her upset face. "You still love him then, don't you Hawke?" she inquired gently.

"I…do." She sighed, adverting her eyes away almost quiltly. That caused the pirate to pause.

"What is it? What did you do? I've seen that look before, and it's not a happy one."

"Anders and I…"

"Oh, so that's it. You finally let the hot blonde in," Isabella said with a chuckle as she went back to picking the lock. "Why is that so bad?"

"Because I love Sebastian!" Hawke snapped out irritiably.

"But you must love Anders if you let him have his naughty way with you," she said with a chuckle. "You aren't the easy type or I would have had my way with you several times over the years." The lock clicked and Isabella let the chain loose, letting it fall to the ground with a hard sound. That made the mage freeze and stare at her with wide eyes, as if her friend's words had been a startling revelation.

"I…no…I don't know," Hawke finally moaned out and then she grabbed the collar on her neck in her hand and frowned tightly. "What about this, can you do anything with this?"

"Hm. This must be the infamous collar Sebasatian told us about," she mused as she took it in her hand. They both then let it go as it shocked them painfully. The both of them then shook their hands out to get the irritating stinging to stop. "Has that happened before?" Hawke shook her head and Isabella frowned. "I can't do anything about it now. Let's just get out of here. We need to get to the others."

When Hawke started limping out the doorway, Isabella sighed and shook her head. She came up behind her and swung her up into her arms as the mage gave a surprised cry. The pirate then resituated Hawke by swinging her onto the back and kept hold of her by her thighs. "Hold on tight," Isabella advised.

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><p>Sebastian and Varric huffed from behind the pillars they were hiding behind inside the throne room of the keep. As soon as they had approached Cullen, the man had smiled cruelly and waved forward a score of men who then proceeded to attack them. All along Cullen had been planning an ambush; it shamed Sebastian to think he hadn't seen this coming. Together, him and the dwarf had managed to take out a good number of them, but not without injury. Arrows continued to try and reign down on them from various directions, while Cullen continued to laugh from the throne.<p>

"Give it up, Sebastian." He called out tauntingly.

"Never!" Sebastian yelled back as he pulled an arrow tight in the bow string, then peeked around the pillar long enough to let it loose, where it then flew from to find home in one of the last nine attacker's eye socket. The man didn't even scream, just splurted blood and fell to the ground as many had done before him. Varric nooded to him once he turned back to hide behind the pillar. The dwarf had notched a dozen arrows in Bianca and then turned as Sebastian had done, but instead aimed at the ceiling above the attackers. He pulled Bianca's trigger and as soon as the arrows took off, he returned to his perch. The arrows shot up, but then curved and rained down at the now scrambling men. Two fell dead and at least three more took injuries to their limbs or bodies.

"You won't ever win! The Templars will be around, we will always seek to destroy the mages and that little present I gave Hawke…" Cullen laughed and leaned back in his throne. "It won't come off for anyone except me." It wasn't the truth, but there was no way that the prince would know that. In fact, the only thing that could remove that collar was a being of the Fade.

Sebastian scowled. "Then I will force you to remove it!"

Together, the two of them managed to take out the rest of the Templars. Once the room was clear of threats, the injured dwarf and prince came out from behind the pillars and made their way toward Cullen. They stopped at the base of the stairs leading to the throne.

"It's just us now, Cullen. Don't make us force you to come with us," Sebastian warned.

"You can't force me to do anything." Cullen said calmly, crossing his arms ocer his chest. "If I refuse to come with you, and you kill me, well then, your precious Hawke will forever be bound to that collar." He grinned. "Want to know the best part?"

Sebastian growled and notched an arrow in his bow, barely restraining himself from loosing it into the man's head. "What did you do?"

"If the collar isn't removed in a week – she will die." Then he burst into laughter. "And guess what? I'm not helping you!" He started laughing harder.

Varric was even now aiming an armed Bianca at the crazed Knight-Commander. "It seems insanity comes with the job," the dwarf growled out.

"You will help us." Sebastian said firmly, angrily, very close to loosing his control.

"No, I won't." Then with that the Knight-Commander pulled the very same sword Meredith had used in her duel with The Champion from behind the throne. With his continued manic laughter, Cullen then used it to slit his own throat as Sebastian and Varric watched in horror.

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><p>Please review! =) I love all my readers and I like to hear what you all have to say!<p> 


	12. Unjust

So, it seems between reviews and PM's, the votes are equally split right now. Heh, so we'll see how it goes. I just want to say thank-you for all of you who have stuck with Full Circle since the start; I can only hope to continue well! We are reaching the end in the next few chapters – no more than 20 chapters in total.

Thank-you for all the support!

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age! *cry*

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><p>"Hawke!" Anders quickly abandoned his post behind the supply crates as he saw Isabella come out from the shadows through the gate to the Gallows with Hawke on her back. Fenris scowled with annoyance at the mage's carelessness, but soon followed after a moment of careful consideration. They came together as a group in the center of the smaller courtyard, just in front of the mage merchant stands. Hawke smiled weakly in greeting, her head laying against Isabella's shoulder. "I'm glad your safe," she whispered, reaching out a hand to gently touch Anders' coat.<p>

"Give her to me," Anders said calmly, though they could all see that he was shaking. Isabella regarded him for a solemn moment, then nodded, allowing the mage to take Hawke off of her back and into his arms; he slid his arm under her legs and under her arms. Then he glared down at her, but without firm conviction. "You idiot! Were you trying to get yourself killed!" He snapped out. "What did you think you were going to accomplish? Don't you know how all of us would feel if you died? We all came to get you back, despite some of our…feelings, regarding the others."

"I seriously doubt that lecturing her will change anything," Fenris said from behind them with a scowl on his attractive, but tired features.

"It's quite alright, Fenris." Hawke said with a smile, a tired smile. "I am surprised to see you. Don't get me wrong, I am happy, so very happy, to see you – all of you – but I thought you returned to destroy the rest of the Tevinter magisters."

"Indeed, but this isn't the time to discuss this. We need to meet up with Sebastian." The elf said, which caused Hawke to stiffen in Anders' arms.

"Sebastian! Oh Maker, we have to get to the Keep. It was a trap, it was all a trap to kill him," Hawke moaned out, holding onto Anders with an arm around his neck. Tears were evident in her eyes. "Damn the Templars! I am useless! Come, you have to help me!" She pleaded. "Can you heal me?"

Anders nodded firmly, though his heart clenched tightly with pain over her worry for the prince. He closed his eyes and channeled his magic into his hands where they touched her, sending the waves of healing magic into her only to groan and break it off abruptly as pain exploded through his body. Sparks jumped around her collar as Anders opened his eyes. "I can't," he whispered regretfully as the sparks died away. "Just as it seems to inhibit your powers, it must prevent the use of magic on you as well."

"Here," Fenris stepped up next to them and pressed a health potion into her hand, then placed it against her chest. "This should help."

Hawke turned her silver eyes to Fenris' jade ones and smiled, a tear running down her cheek. "Thank you, Fenris."

The show of emotion seemed to make the elf uncomfortable and he nodded gruffly, turning away from her to appear as if he were observing the courtyard. This only made Hawke chuckle as she uncapped the cork from the potion bottle, holding it to her lips as she tilted it back; the potion was coppery, almost like blood, as distasteful as she remembered but it settled throughout her body she instantly began to feel better. The bruises healed, the scrapes became scratches, her split lip sealed shut, the blackness around her eye disappeared, and the deep lacerations on her ankles became much less substantial. She passed the empty bottle to Isabella who disposed of it, then asked Anders to let her down, insisting that she was now well enough to walk. She then turned to the rogue.

"I can't use my magic, obviously, but I am not completely useless. I can use a dagger pretty well," she told Isabella, who in turn nodded and passed one of her toys over to her. Hawke spun it around in her hand experimentally, tossing it between her hands, before taking a strong grip on it with a firm nod of her head. "This will do nicely. Come on, we have to go help Sebastian and Varric!"

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><p><em>Change everything you are and everything you were.<em>

When they reached the keep, they found it deathly quiet; they were not ambushed, or assaulted, and the hairs on the back of Hawke's neck were standing up with apprehension. She didn't have to be a seer to see there was something amiss; no pun intended. The group took careful inventory of the keep, first checking the offices, then the guard's quarters; they found nothing. They then all headed toward the throne room and were shocked, but pleased, with what they saw. Littered all the way to the throne were Templar corpses. And standing before the throne were Sebastian and Varric, though they stood eerily still as if transfixed by something they could not tear their eyes from.

"Sebastian? Varric?" Hawke carefully said their names, stepping to stand just a few feet behind them.

_Your number has been called._

Varric moved first while Sebastian remained stark still. The dwarf turned every so slightly, his hands shaking as he gripped Bianca like his life depended on it. It was just enough; it was then that they saw Cullen. A manic smile across his lips as he reclined in his throne, eyes wide and empty, his throat ripped open savagely by a blade. A blade that Hawke could see now on the floor beside his feet – one so familiar to her. "H-how did he get that?..." she whispered aloud to herself. "I thought I destroyed it."

Anders stepped forward and around the others, but was stopped by Sebastian who threw out his arm to block his way. "Don't touch him," the prince managed to choke out. Anders scoffed and moved to shove his arm away, but then was thrown completely off guard as the archer turned and slammed his fist into his jaw. The mage grunted and promptly fell on his ass, rubbing his now aching jaw as Sebastian glared down at him. "I said not to touch him!"

"What the hell is your problem?" Isabella said as she knelt beside Anders, looking over the slugged spot, before helping the mage to his feet. Hawke stood transfixed; something was wrong. So very, very wrong.

"Sebastian…" Hawke whispered his name. It was only then that Sebastian realized that Hawke was there. His eyes widened as he turned them on her, before striding over with purposeful steps to pull her into his arms. He hugged her tightly, trembling.

"I'm so glad you are okay," He whispered raggedly against her ear, his voice choked as if in unbearable pain. Anders' glared on with unmistakable jealousy and distaste, while the others – all save for Varric – just stared on in confusion.

Hawke hugged him back for a slight moment, forgetting for just a second the audience they had; it felt so good, so right, to be in his arms. Even when she met Anders' eyes over the prince's shoulder, she felt that this was right, but her heart ached for the mage; what was wrong with her? She pulled stubbornly away from Sebastian and stepped out of his arms, even as he looked hurt that she did so.

"What's the matter? I know there is no way Cullen's death can be breaking you this badly, so…tell me, what is it?"

_Fight and battles have begun, revenge will surely come._

_Your hard times are ahead._

Sebastian was suddenly at a loss for words. He looked at her with such sad eyes, her heart broke. Growing frustrated, she growled and stalked over to Varric. "Varric, you're my friend. Please, tell me what's wrong?" She pleaded.

The dwarf swallowed loudly. "I'm sorry, princess. Cullen was the only person who could remove your collar and he…he killed himself, laughing all the while."

The floor dropped out from beneath Hawke and she grew faint, her head raising to her brow as she lost her balance. Anders beat Sebastian to her, catching her in his arms as she fell. She stared up at the mage with suddenly hollow eyes, before looking back over to Varric, her whole body trembling. "I will never have my magic back?" she croaked out.

Varric's grip tightened on Bianca as the whole group stared at him. Only Sebastian stood back, his face sad and set firmly in anger, his hands balled into unbearably tight fists. "That's not the bad news." He finally said, the prince that is.

Hawke glanced at him, her brows pulled tight over her eyes. "What do you mean?" She asked, but Sebastian clammed up again, shaking – whether in fury or sadness, she didn't know. "Varric?"

_Best, you've got to be the best. _

_You've got to change the world and use this chance to be heard. _

_Your time is now._

The silence stretched and Fenris growled, stalking impatiently toward where Hawke was held by Anders. "Varric, surely it cannot be as bad as the two of you are making it seem," the elf asserted, crossing his arms over his chest as he glanced down at Hawke, before then staring at Varric.

_Don't let yourself down._

_Don't let yourself go. _

_You're last chance has arrived._

Adverting his eyes to the floor, then to Cullen's dead body, Varric sighed loudly. "I'm sorry, princess," he murmured again, before he turned his sad eyes back to Hawke. "If the collar isn't removed in the next six days…you're going to die. It will kill you."

Then suddenly, with a moan of denial, Hawke's world went black.

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><p>The italicized words were lyrics to the song <strong>Butterflies and Hurricanes<strong> by **Muse.** Dark times are here for Hawke, but will her friends be able to save her, as she has saved them each before? Or is she doomed to the eternal embrace of the Maker?

Please review!


	13. Discovering An Out

This chapter reveals some things. :D

Disclaimer: Why do you keep reminding me! Bioware owns! D:

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><p>Despite Sebastian's angry glare, Anders had been the one to carry the unconscious Hawke back to Varric's room in The Hanged Man, as Varric had made a valid point – he and Sebastian needed to stay behind and search not only the keep, but Cullen's body, for any information on the collar that was now seeping away Hawke's life. There was no way in the Maker that Sebastian was going to allow Necroditei Hawke to die; he had foolishly made a mistake in leaving her over someone else's mistake and now that he had her back – sort of – he was not about to let her go.<p>

So his angry blue eyes watched as the amber-eyed mage carried away his love and something about the way the man was tenderly cradling her in his arms made Sebastian very uncomfortable. He and Hawke had been apart for so very long, and because of his firm belief in his vows of chasity, they had never had an _intimate_ relationship. He had been foolish back then to think they could be husband and wife without the physical aspect. Not foolish maybe, more…naïve. He had gone from one extreme – wild, drunk playboy – to the other – chaste, naïve chantry boy. He clenched his fists tightly, then let out a sigh and turned back to look at the crazed expression on Cullen's dead face. He shuddered and shook his head, before, despite Varric's intense and curious gaze, he walked to the throne and knelt, offering a prayer to the Maker for Cullen's soul; the man didn't deserve it given his recent choices, but once upon a time, he had been a good man and that man was the one Sebastian was praying for.

"Do you think he really deserves a prayer?" Varric asked and he walked forward to stand next to him.

"Everyone deserves a prayer in the Maker's eyes," Sebastian replied as he stood.

"Hm. I wonder if you would extend Blondie the same courtesy," Varric drawled as he moved forward, avoiding looking at Cullen's face as he began to search the Knight-Commander's uniform for any parchments , keys – anything that could be of use to them.

Sebastian frowned tightly, brows pulled tight as he sighed. "That's different," he started after a moment, "That abomination killed someone very dear to me."

"Sebastian. You just offered a prayer for a man who did unspeakable things to Hawke and who may very well kill her – or is she not as dear to you as the Grand Cleric was?"

Those words were far closer to home than Sebastian wanted to admit. "Hawke is the greatest thing I treasure," He finally sighed as he moved up next to Varric. They were both quiet then while the dwarf spent the next few moments searching through pockets and pouches. He came away with nothing other than a key, pressing it to Sebastian's hand once they had moved away from the body. Sebastian looked down at Varric and nodded. "It's safe to assume the key is for the Viscount's office; do your best to dispose of that sword while I go search."

They parted ways for the time being as Sebastian made his way out of the throne room. He took the stairs down a flight, then walked up two flights of stairs to his right. He walked through the first door on his right, pausing in the small study. There was a door to the left of the room, the Seneschal's office, but the door in front of him was the one he needed. He walked to it and tested the door to find it locked – as he expected to – so he popped the key into the keyhole and twisted, the large bolt pulling free and allowing him to open the door. Not wishing to be disturbed, he shut and relocked the door behind him, then went about searching the entire office.

After searching the entire office and finding nothing, Sebastian fell into the chair behind the Viscount's desk with a sigh. He let his head fall back and shut his eyes with a loud exhale. He _had_ to find something. There was no way to tell if the crazed Cullen had been honest, or if he'd been lying through his teeth to just goad them, throw them into a frenzied panic. Lifting his head, he rubbed his brow, opening his eyes to look down at the messy desk top. He began sifting through papers, occassional documents catching his attention, but only one managed to catch it long enough for him to pick it up in his hands.

**Deccan,**

**Your orders stand. No one is to see Hawke , no one is to hear from her. This will draw the concern of Sebastian Vael. He will not storm the Gallows, but instead come to me for a diplomatic solution. This is his way. Don't get too lax, however, for I have no inkling as to where the abomination is, or if he has sought help from their former companions. You know the stipulations to the FADE Collar; if something should happen you know where to look. The guide will teach you the way to release her from it, or to bind it indefinitely. Seven days is the deal I made. **

**In case you **_**have**_** forgotten; it lies within the sealed records which can only be unlocked with my key. **

**Knight-Commander Cullen**

So there was a way to release Hawke from the collar without Cullen! Sebastian slammed the paper down and laughed with relief. There was a way to save her, he just had to find this guide Cullen had mentioned. He pulled the key out and looked at it, thinking. Where does the viscount keep the sealed records? He kicked the desk frustrated. There was a hollow echo and he jolted, leaning down to look at the underside. Lanky, but strong, fingers grabbed the edge and pulled, to no avail. Narrowing his eyes, he could see in the shadows a very slight indentation that could very well be a keyhole, way in the back. He took the key and reached back to slide it into the hole, turning it until her heard the click. The lock refused to give him the key back but the drawer loosened, so he hooked his fingers on the edge and pulled the drawer open. His brows came down with a tight frown; the drawer was empty. Nothing was in it. He had to think for a long moment; didn't he have a drawer like this in his own desk? There was supposed to be something stealthy about it.

False bottom!

Sebastian grabbed a letter opener off the desk and hooked it between the edge of the false floor and the drawer wall, popping it up. Grabbing it in his fingers, he set it on top of the desk before sitting back in the chair and looking at the black jerkin journal sitting there before him. Hands shaking, he slowly withdrew it and carefully opened it. The first page showed Cullen's unmistakable, somewhat erratic handwriting, a sloppy sketch of the collar he'd seen on Hawke in the center of the parchment. The words "FADE COLLAR" scribbled just under it. Turning the page, he began reading.

"**I have found the sword that Meredith had tried to kill The Champion with. Somehow, it had ended up in the ruins of the circle, buried beneath all the rubble. I had been certain serah Hawke had destroyed it. Such a powerful sword…I wonder if it really was the cause of Meredith's insanity."**

"**Shortly after I took the sword back to the Keep, I began dreaming…"**

"**I feel as if the sword has dragged me into the **_**fade**_**. Is this what the Mages triapsed through as I watched so many go through the Harrowing in the Fereldan Circle Tower?"**

"**At first it was nothing but the mist and the weird islands. No one was there, just myself holding that sword. Then…beings began to show themselves. They left me well alone for awhile…"**

"**One of the beings approached me. A woman, or what appeared to be a woman. She was tall, with long, firey red hair and liquid silver eyes, but she was clothed in a shredded robe, her nipples and female parts the only things covered. Her skin was almost purple, but seemed porcelien, and a pair of horns curled from her temples. It looked…**_**she**_** looked…almost like a desire demon…but in the features, I could see…I know it sounds insane…but I thought I could see serah Hawke. No words were exchanged and I woke, trembling."**

Sebastian paused and inhaled a shaking breath; he and Hawke had personally dealt with a desire demon years ago. Now it seemed as if there were one that was imposing the image of Hawke on itself. What in the Maker was going on? His eyes began to scan the next page after he flipped it.

"**I was not approached for days then. I distracted myself by examining and repairing the sword, which I decided to name Scarlet, from the way the red aura shined. I could never tear my eyes from it. It was if I were transfixed. Trapped. I feel it's consuming me…but I need it. Can't live without it. It's a **_**part**_** of me."**

"**Once Scarlet was completely fixed, I was approached in the **_**fade**_** by that woman again. Or demon. Whatever it was. We talked this time..."**

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><p><em>Cullen was standing before the demon woman, a frown tight over his features. "Where am I?" He asked of her, finding that if he were indeed in the fade, it was a dangerous thing to be wearing the Templar uniform. If he was in the fade, how was that even possible? Only mages could be traipse about the fade unaided in their dreams.<em>

"_You are in the Fade, my dear," the woman purred, her voice like silk. "You may call me Captivate."_

"_How is this possible?" _

"_Scarlet brought you to me; we draw the – one – to us, give them their every desire. Only you, my dear, can handle us," she sauntered closer to him and slid her arms around his neck. Her lips curled up seductively and those silver eyes watched him from under long lashes, threatening to drown him. It made him tremble. Hawke had always reminded him of the Warden, the Hero of Fereldan – Laila Amell; through careful observations and digging, he had actually found out that Amell had been Hawke's cousin. His worst temptation had come back to haunt him a decade ago, tormented him for so many years, and now here was a etheral beingwith those same eyes, those same features; it seemed as if the Maker was set to torment him for those feelings he'd had for that…mage. Her cousin, Hawke, had turned out to be a mage too. _

"_What is it I can give you, my dear?" She trailed a sharp nail down along his cheek and he shuddered. "A woman? Power?"_

"_I don't deal with demons," he denied weakly. _

"_I am no ordinary demon, love," her laughter was seductive and tantalizing. "I can give you __**anything**__."_

_The misty atmosphere seeped into his pores making him giddy, almost lightheaded. The silver gleam of her eyes drew him like a moth to a flame, making him slowly burn with his forbidden desire. "Anything?" he croaked out, half defeated. It was only a dream after all._

"_**Anything."**_

_With that, he groaned out in defeat and kissed the demon, imagining Amell in his arms. The supple, lithe, tiny little mage that had tormented him all those years in the Circle. It was his fingers running through her short, straight auburn hair. He raised his head, surpressing the molten lava desire eating him alive.. _

"_I need a way to seal a mage's power – without making them Tranquil."_

_Captivate cocked a brow. "I ask out of sheer curiousity – why is this?"_

"_There are a pair of mages I have been hunting for along time. Both deserving of punishment. I wish to make sure they cannot harm us, but in turn, will have to live every second of their punishment."_

"_I see…" Captivate drawled, a peculiar smirk twisting her lips appealing. "I can do that for you, if you'll allow me some…liberties with my toy."_

"_As long as it does what is needed." He nuzzled her face, trembling, his arms around her waist to hold her to him. _

"_Then seal this deal with me, love." The demon locked lips with him again and broke the skin of his lip with her fang, tasting his coppery essence on her tongue. Cullen shuddered with pleasure, but pulled back to look at those endless mercury pools. "Now you will taste me," she grinned sensually. Curling her lower lip in, she nipped it with her own fang, drawing a simple bead of demon blood and then kissed him again. The bead made its way onto his tongue and he gasped, electric shocks dancing along every nerve ending in his body. He spasmed in her arms, and when he opened his eyes again, he woke in his bed, drenched in sweat._

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><p>"<strong>I thought it was only a dream, but something in me changed. I have to find Hawke. I have to do it now. I will bargain with Sebastian Vael, as his desire to find her is as great as mine."<strong>

"**Scarlet is calling to me. Have to find Hawke."**

"**Captivate was in my dream again, whispering in my ear, tasting me again and again. 'Find her', she whispered to me. Have to find Hawke."**

"**Captivate. Captivate. Find Hawke."**

"**Scarlet whispers to me in Captivate's voice, seducing me. I can't get her out of my head. Or her voice constantly whispering to me, **_**Find Hawke. Find her. She is your greatest desire – your revenge.**_**"**

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><p><em>Cullen found himself in the Fade again. Captivate was sitting in the pools of an endless pond, beckoning him with a crook of her finger. Her silver eyes were dancing with mischief. "Come to me, it's time." She whispered to him, holding out a slim hand. In her curled fingers she held a glittering silver chain. Like, a chain that belonged to a prisoner. Thick, hard, sturdy; almost what a Mabari would wear.<em>

"_What is this?" Cullen asked, taking the collar from her hand._

"_It's my toy," she giggled, motioning for him to sit and once he did, she planted herself in his lap, wrapping her arm around the back of his neck. Together they looked at the collar, his other hand curled around his waist and resting on her hip. "Lock this on a mage, it will nullify any connection to te Fade, __**without**__ cutting their humanity out. I have made this possible by sealing my blood into the chain. However, my power is limited. I am only able to keep this connection for a week. Once the week is over, the magic I have provided will vanish – if the mage still wears the collar, she too will vanish with it. She will die."_

"_Seems easy enough to follow," he commented._

"_Not done yet, my dear." She giggled again and kissed his neck, causing him to shiver pleasurably. "__**Only you**__ can place it on her, as you and I are linked, and you can share my magic through Scarlet. Beware though, not all beings of the Fade are as helpful as I. Any being of the Fade can remove the collar, so long as they have a physical form."_

_Then they were kissing again and he lost his ability to think coherently._

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><p>"<strong>Captivate told me a being of the Fade can remove the collar so long as they have a physical form. What does that even mean? An abomination?"<strong>

"**Find Hawke. Find Hawke. Find. Hawke. ."**

Wait…That last entry. There it was! After what seemed like hours of reading, and scores of page turning, Sebastian had found the answer he was seeking. So there was a way to remove the collar, but only a Fade resident could do so. He immediately thought of Hawke, or then of Anders; they were the only mages. Anders…unfortunitely, was the best option. Justice – from what he recalled – knew things of the Fade but it was not as if Sebastian was privy to the mage's details, not that he wanted to be.

Why was everything coming back to that damn abomination?

Was he really the only way to save Hawke?

Why did he get to save her? Why did he get to be there for her? Why?

He growled and shut the book, standing up and leaving the office to go seek out Varric.

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><p>Please review! XD<p> 


	14. The Journal's Answer

Getting close to the end to now! ^_^ Even if this isn't as popular as it first was, I really want to finish it!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything of DA…='(

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><p>Anders strolled into The Hanged Man with the unconscious Hawke in his arms, holding her as close to his chest as he could manage. He stopped as he reached the stairs, turning to face Isabella and Fenris who came to a stop when they realized the mage was in their way. "She'll wake up soon, I'll watch over her," he reassured. Fenris only glared at him suspiciously while Isabella sighed dramatically, grabbing the elf's arm in her hand and practically dragging him toward the bar. He resisted the whole way, continuously glancing over his shoulder at Anders, before his eyes would fall to Hawke. Shaking his head, Anders turned, made his way up the stairs, and slipped quietly into Varric's currently unoccupied room. When he came to Varric's bed, he stopped and frowned. He really didn't want to let go of Hawke, not after the way he'd seen Sebastian look at her; he was afraid he was losing her to him all over again. With a sigh, he gently laid her on the bed before pulling up one of the table's chairs to the edge and taking a seat there as he watched over her. It would be an hour or so before Hawke's eyes opened, but when they did, Anders was still sitting there; he'd had to wave Fenris away several times though, the elf obviously not trusting him to be alone with their friend.<p>

Hawke groaned and tossed her head back n' forth for a moment, before she allowed her eyes to flutter open. Silver irises found Anders quickly enough and he slowly helped her sit up when she gestured for the help. "It wasn't a dream, was it?" She asked him in a broken whisper once she was sitting on the bed, her fingertips – all eight of them – touching the chain collar around her neck.

Anders' amber eyes lowered sadly for a moment as he nodded. He then looked at her, really looked at her, leaned forward and cupped her face between his hands so that she had no choice but to look into his eyes. "Sebastian and Varric are searching the keep, Hawke. We'll figure out a way to get that damned thing off of you, I promise." He vowed conviction strong in his voice.

After she nodded he lowered his eyes but didn't release her face from his hands. He didn't realize how long he'd been looking away from her until he felt her hand gently lift his chin. "Anders? What's wrong?" She pulled his hands from her cheeks and held them, squeezing softly.

"I don't want to lose you," he confessed. "Not after I just got you."

"I know you and the other won't let me die, not without a fight," she reminded him.

Anders shook his head. "Not entirely what I meant…"

"Oh…"

"Hawke," Anders sighed her name and squeezed her hands. "Did…did anything happen between you and Sebastian? He mentioned that he found you and talked with you…what happened?"

Hawke's eyes fell this time and at that simple action Anders felt his heart tighten unbearably. His heart stuttered over a beat and then kicked itself into overdrive. "Anders…"

"No, don't. Forget I even asked," he growled out bitterly; he should have known what would happen if Sebastian ever found her. He would always be second in her heart, no matter what he did, or how long he followed her for. He let go of her hands and tried to move away but she stopped him by re-grabbing his hands, forcing him to stop his retreat.

"Anders, listen to me," she implored and he sighed, knowing that he could not refused her anything. When she was satisfied that he wouldn't ignore her words or retreat, she continued. "Sebastian helped me, somewhat. He…confessed to still loving me and I did admit that while I have tried to love you – and I _do_ love you Anders – that I still love him as well. Our year together I have been trying to forget him, but I can't Anders. At the same time I don't know if I can be with him, or with you. At this point it doesn't even count as my biggest concern – after all, if I am dead, how can I love or be with anyone?"

"You're right," he admitted with a regretful sigh. "I am being selfish to even worry about this right now. The only thing that should matter is saving your life somehow. And I can swear to you, we will find a way. There is no way we could all go one without you, especially me." He leaned down and pressed his lips gently against hers, secretly doing a dance in his head with happiness when she didn't pull away but instead leaned into him. They broke apart after a moment, and then turned their heads toward the door when they heard resounding frantic thumps that let them know someone was in a hurry to get to them. As Sebastian burst through the door, Anders jumped to his feet to turn and look at him. The prince and all the others who followed behind him – Fenris, Isabella, and Varric – came into the room, though Sebastian and Varric were the ones who were out of breath.

Hawke cocked her head curiously. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Sebastian couldn't help but smile, his eyes alight with faith and hope. "We found a way." He said simply.

Varric came to stand beside her and he set Bianca against his shoulder with a grin. "Good news for you, Princess! Sebastian found Cullen's journal and found a way to remove the collar."

Anders' eyes snapped from Varric to Sebastian. "How?" He demanded, his hands clenched tightly into fists; he was happy, beyond happy, for Hawke but he wanted to be the one to find the way to save her.

The Maker must have a sense of humor because then Sebastian turned to Anders with a determined look in his steel blue eyes, pointing at him with the journal. "You are going to save her," he said, his expression daring the mage to argue with him.

Hawke's eyes narrowed and she frowned, not following what Sebastian was getting at. "What in the Maker are you talking about Sebastian?" she asked, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and climbing to her feet. "How can Anders remove the collar? He is a mage, like me and I wasn't able to even make it weaken."

Fenris and Isabella both took a seat at the table, across from each other as the elf wanted to sit nowhere near the pirate; he reclined back in the chair and propped his feet up on the table, cocking his head as Hawke had. "You have made me curious as well, Vael. Indulge us if you will."

Suddenly Sebastian found all eyes on him and he chuckled softly to himself, before he pulled a chair back and sat in it setting the journal on the table top. He indicated for the others to sit and they all did, save for Hawke. She found she was too anxious to sit and instead paced beside the bed. "Hawke, would you please sit down," Sebastian implored. With a sigh and an over exaggerated flop, Hawke found herself sitting on the edge of the bed again, Anders once again seated in the chair nearby her. Varric took his normal seat and absently stroked Bianca while she rested in his lap.

"Cullen's journal explained everything," Sebastian started. "When he found the sword in the rubble of the Gallows, he started having dreams. _Fade_ dreams. At first it was nothing, just wandering the Fade. After a few visits a demon resembling you, _Hawke_, approached him."

"What? Me? I don't think I have ever heard of such a thing; demons have always had generic enough appearances. That's how powerful mages who can avoid falling prey to their words can tell them apart," Hawke mumbled somewhat absently. Anders was staring at Sebastian strangely now.

"Yes, he specifically made sure he wrote that down; _the woman resembled the champion greatly, and even her cousin, Amell, the Hero of Fereldan._"

"Wait, wait; wait a second." Hawke gestured with her hands to further emphasize her words, making Sebastian pause to stare at her. "My _cousin_?"

Anders' eyes snapped to Hawke then, widening. "The Warden Commander is your cousin?"

"You never guessed? My uncle is Gamlen _Amell_."

The mage grasped desperately for words, floundering about helplessly for a moment before he managed to speak again. "Well, sure, but Amell is a common enough surname. I didn't think…now that you mention it, you do resemble her. I never really noticed because I've never had to compare you to her. She was a great friend; she saved my life by conscripting me into the Wardens."

Hawke blinked several times before laughing softly. "It must run in the family," she mused softly.

Fenris cleared his throat. "Can we return to the problem at hand?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Hawke mumbled.

"Don't be," Sebastian reassured her, glaring at Anders for a moment before looking back at Hawke. "Back to the journal; the demon's name was Captivate. She promised to help him with his mission of revenge against you if he allowed her to make the collar." He indicted the device around Hawke's neck. "A week was what she told him would be the deadline – if he didn't want to kill you, he would have to remove it before then. However," he paused and flipped the book open to a particular page, slamming his hand palm down on it, "right here is how we get around that. She told him that any Fade being can remove the collar because they are like her and she is what created it. The only stipulation is that the Fade being has to have a physical form."

"Justice," Hawke breathed her eyes wide.

"Exactly my thought," Sebastian said with a nod.

It was then that all eyes turned to Anders. He groaned and held his head in his hands for a long moment. The silence stretched unbearably before he felt Hawke's slim hand on his shoulder. Anders sighed and lifted his head, dropping his hands to his thighs. "Do you really think Justice is going to help us?" He asked the room desperately.

"It's a long shot," Sebastian confirmed with a stern look. "However, it's the only shot we have."

Hawke kept her hand on Anders' shoulder reassuringly, squeezing it gently as she looked around the room at all her friends. "How are we going to convince him?" She asked. "Anyone have any ideas?"

She was surprised when Fenris dropped his feet and set his arms on the table, leaning in her direction. "I have an idea, but much like Sebastian's – it's a long shot."

Hawke swallowed, suddenly a little nervous. "What is it, Fenris?" Her voice was almost as shaky as her hands; when she noticed this she took her hand back from Anders, well aware that his eyes were on her, though she stubbornly kept her gaze on her elf friend.

"Anders doesn't want Justice, yes?" Fenris waited for the possessed mage to nod before he continued. "Hawke can't use her magic, but she should be able to still enter the Fade in her sleep. I propose that she and Anders – and I since the lyrium allows me to enter at times – go into the Fade and face Justice. Either convince him we can free him or simply destroy him."

Anders shook his head. "There is no way we could defeat Justice, not without Hawke. We are not nearly as strong as she."

"Then what do we do?" Isabella said with a sigh as she tapped her nails on the table top, her chin propped in her hand, her elbow on the table edge.

"We will have to try it Fenris' way," Sebastian said with a sigh. "It's the only way."

"Perhaps not," Hawke spoke up. "Perhaps I can reason with him."

"You want to reason with the unstable spirit that blew up the Chantry?" Sebastian asked skeptically, the shock and disbelief more than apparent on his handsome face.

"It's a chance," she said determinedly. "If I hadn't spared Anders a year ago he would be dead too. There has to be something of _justice_ left in that spirit – he _is_ the fade spirit for justice. You know; an eye for eye and all that."

Anders was staring at her like she'd grown two heads and the other's looks were too different. Fenris was scowling, Isabella's eyebrows looked as if they'd jump off her face they were raised so high, Varric just stared with an unreadable expression, and Sebastian was shaking his head as if he were disappointed in her. Hawke stomped her feet and scowled, the look not something they'd seen from her very often.

"Don't you all dare discredit me so easily. I saved you all at one time or another, defeated the Arishok in one-on-one combat, took down Meredith, Orsino, and any mage or Templar that stood in our way. Do you all forget so easily?" She said with a huff.

The silence said enough. "If my plan fails, we'll try it Fenris' way," she said and surprisingly, none of them dared to argue.

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><p>Still diplomatic Hawke? Well, we'll see how it works out. :)<p>

Please review if you have a moment!


	15. Confrontation

Alright, going to start off by saying I have no idea how this chapter is going to play out. I essentially opened word and started writing; I am as in the dark as all of you. An interesting experience when you are the one writing. Anxious to see how it plays out, so here I go!

Disclaimer: I, very unfortunately, own nothing of DA! But they can have me if they want…XD!

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><p>So this was the plan. Hawke knew that Justice would not appear with everyone there, too much to risk. She didn't know how she'd known that but she did. The others were <em>very<em> reluctant to leave her and Anders alone, but she made them a compromise; they'd wait in the unoccupied room next door, listening _very_ attentively for a sign that Hawke was in danger. Being that close, they would be able to get to her before something horrible happened to her say like – Justice killing her, which they seemed to absolutely sure would happen. Hawke wasn't so sure; she'd been the only to come face to face with Justice and in her opinion that allowed her to be the deciding party. So one by one they filed out of the room, Sebastian lingering for a very long moment before scowling darkly at Anders and following the rest of them out, closing the door behind him.

Anders let out a very heavy sigh and turned to face Hawke. He could be thankful that she had at least agreed to put the table between them. "So, how do we start?" He asked her, crossing his arms across his chest. His heart was so erratic it was almost hard to breathe, like the organ would sprout wings and fly away. Anders was not the religious type but he sent up a silent prayer to the Maker hoping this wasn't all going to come back and bite them in the ass, harder than it already had.

Hawke regarded him from her side of the table with a cool expression, her bright silver eyes assessing him from head to toe. She clicked her tongue. "Have you ever tried to just, you know, let him out?"

Anders' eyes widened, his brows shooting up; was she crazy? "Why would I do that?"

"Valid point," she conceded. "Well, I cannot use my magic so provoking him with it won't work."

Anders groaned and rolled his eyes, throwing his arms up in exasperation. "Why would you want to provoke him? You saw what he did to the Chantry! And the last time he came out, he nearly strangled you to death!"

"Again, valid points but if I recall, I am already dying, Anders and, as much as we hate it, Justice is the only hope we have to keep me from said dying," she said with a sigh. She turned and walked this way and that, arms crossed over her chest. "I suppose asking nicely wouldn't work?" Anders shrugged with a grunt. Hawke stopped pacing and turned to face him though there was still a good five or so feet between the two of them. "Justice, I'd like to talk to you."

He cocked his head and stared at her strangely, but there was no familiar blue flare. Hawke sighed softly and shook her head. "Alright, if you want to be that way about this; sorry Anders," Hawke apologized as she picked up the chair in front of her, slinging it back and then sending it flying at Anders. "You stupid piece of shit, get out here this instant before I fry your ass!"

Just before the chair hit Anders that blue aura flared around him and the piece of furniture shattered to bits where it then proceeded to fall to the ground. Hawke smirked as silver met flaring blue; his skin was cracked, blue light shining from within him. "Do you have a death wish mortal?" the spirit raged at her, kicking a chair nearby him into the wall. Hawke held up her hands in a sign of peace.

"Alright, would you calm down for a second? You only seem to come out with provocation so I didn't really have a choice. I needed to speak with you," Hawke explained as Justice seethed just across from her.

Justice huffed annoyingly and crossed his arms over his chest, those blue fire eyes watching her; it was such a disconcerting thing, those eyes. Unlike human eyes, Justice's eyes didn't let a thing out; no emotions. She could normally gauge a situation by a look into someone's eyes but with Justice that was impossible. "What do you want?" He said, obviously not wanting to deal with her as if he had more important things to do.

"I want you to remember something," she snapped out, getting a little annoyed herself; if it weren't for this damned spirit, everything wouldn't have gone to hell the way it had. "I saved your life; I want you to return the favor."

Justice couldn't help but scoff at her, shaking his head. "You're brave, I'll give you that, but what makes you think I would save your life? I have tried to end it more than once and if you did die, that is another obstacle removed. I don't plan on leaving; there is too much in this realm to fix. So much injustice and I won't stop until the whole of Thedas is afire."

Well…this wasn't starting off so good, Hawke thought with a frown. Her own heart began to race, her palms turning sweaty; there was no way she would be able to fight him off should he decide to finish her once and for all. "Justice, the knight-commander of the Templars made a deal with a demon," she started, pausing to gauge his reaction. He didn't seem surprised. He arched Anders' blonde brow at her as if to say 'and?'. She sighed and gestured to the collar around her neck. "This is what came out of the deal he made. It's essentially being tranquil while still being myself. I can't use my magic and, if I don't get it removed, it will kill me in six days."

Justice tapped his foot and shrugged. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I am telling you because the demon made sure that if something happened to the knight-commander, the only thing that could remove the collar is, essentially, you; a Fade spirit with a physical body."

Everything in Justice stilled in that moment. "It's interesting," he said finally.

"What is?" She asked him cautiously, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"How fate can turn around so quickly; you two were so eager to be rid of me and yet here you are with me as your only hope for survival. It's…interesting." He started laughing, Anders' whole body shaking with the force of his laughter. He started getting that rather crazed expression she'd seen before and she started backing up even as he started walking around the table toward her. "No magic, hm? Well, that makes it easy for me then!" Energy built up in his hand, purple mist swirling with blue, before his hand thrust forward and an electric bolt shot from his hand directly at her. She screamed – needing to alert the others – as she barely managed to dive out of the way, rolling with a cry of pain as she slammed into the wall.

The door burst open distracting Justice who turned to face the open entrance, his aura flaring even brighter in reaction to her friends rushing into the room. Justice's eyes flared bright and he built up that energy again, beginning to cast another spell before Isabella used her shadow and backstab to end up behind him in the blink of an eye. With all the strength she could muster, the pirate smashed her linked hands into the back of Justice's head. He grunted with pain and then proceeded to stumble about the room before he fell onto his face on the floor, blacking out as his aura whittled away to nothing until it was just plain old Anders lying there unconscious.

Sebastian was at Hawke's side in an instant, helping her to her feet but she could see the 'I told you so' looks coming from them all. She scowled darkly. "It was worth a shot!" She snapped out angrily as she rubbed her now aching back. Sebastian's hands were there then as well, rubbing. "Are you alright?" he asked her softly, concern evident in his eyes; it was comforting to be able to see that, Justice's 'fire' eyes having made her uneasy. "Fine," she grumbled before giving a resigned sigh. "Fenris' idea it is, then."

Fenris nodded and moved over to the unconscious mage, carelessly lifting him into his arms before placing him on the bed. When the elf turned to face her, she frowned slightly a thought occurring to her. "Can I even get to the Fade if I can't use my magic?" She wondered aloud.

"You are still a mage, Hawke, so I would assume so," Sebastian reassured her as his hands gripped her shoulders comfortingly.

"What about you, Fenris? You said sometimes; you think you can?" Isabella asked curiously.

The elf nodded determinedly. "I'm not about to leave Hawke to face Justice in the Fade alone."

Sebastian moved away from Hawke toward the table and picked up the journal, flipping through it for a moment before looking back at them all. "You may come across that demon, _Captivate_. It most likely won't be _just_ Justice. This is not going to be easy, Fenris."

"It's magic," the elf drawled unnecessarily. "It's never easy but I cannot turn my back on Hawke. She has never turned her back on me, or any of us."

They all looked at her, smiling in their own ways and she couldn't help but smile in return. Hawke then turned to Varric. "I am not very good at making myself sleep on cue and I would prefer unnecessary bodily harm; do you by any chance have a sleeping drought around here somewhere?"

The dwarf leaned his head back as he tapped Bianca on his shoulder. "Check the nightstand. I can't honestly say for sure, Hawke but I do recall some sleepless nights so there might be."

Hawke nodded and moved to the nightstand, kneeling down on her haunches to pull open the drawer. "Aha! This is exactly what we need!" She exclaimed as she fished out a purplish potion bottle, shutting the drawer and climbing to her feet. She waved Fenris over toward her and they both sat on the edge of the bed. Hawke looked up at Sebastian before he kneeled down in front of her, cupping her face in his hands. They stared into each other's eyes for a very long moment, as if searching for something that couldn't be said. "If we fail, I want you to know that I love you Sebastian. Don't let Anders suffer; if we fail, you must kill him – Anders would not want to be the cause of so many people's suffering. I know that now. Do you promise?" She leaned forward and kissed his lips gently. They held it for awhile before she leaned back.

"I promise, Hawke. And I love you too; I have always loved you." Sebastian said firmly, saying it as determinedly with his eyes as he did with his voice.

"Don't worry Hawke, we'll watch over you guys," Varric said with a grin as Sebastian back off of Hawke reluctantly.

"Thank-you Varric, I appreciate it. I just want you all to know that I cherish every one of you and have been lucky to know you all." Hawke smiled all eyes on her as she popped the cork to the potion bottle and took a deep swig of it. It was a bile evil, but a necessary one. Uck.

She passed the bottle to Fenris who held it up like he was offering a toast. "It's been a pleasure Hawke," he said with a very rare smile, before he downed the other half of the potion. He grimaced from the taste and – as he used to do with his wine bottle – he tossed the empty bottle against the wall to shatter into glittering pieces.

As Isabella, Sebastian, and Varric watched, the two of them began to get drowsy and within a few a minutes, they fell back onto the bed unconscious. Varric sighed and took a seat in the chair that had been placed near the bed earlier. "Let's pray they're successful," he said softly.

"The Maker will watch over them," Sebastian said knowing it was the truth. Hawke would succeed; there wasn't a doubt in his mind.

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><p>Review please! :)<p> 


	16. Strength In Loss

A/N: I _almost_ dropped this. The very day I thought that, CreatedInFyre7 gave me a review that lifted my spirits in regards to Full Circle. Ironic, but awesome. So here I go – finally an update.

A/N – side note: Even though Hawke is a mage in this story arc, I kept Bethany alive only to have her felled by a Templar in the final struggle of Kirkwall. I do not recall having mentioned Carver so where and how he died will be resolved here, but I'd like to take this time to mention that neither sibling was killed by the darkspawn ogre on their escape from Lothering to Kirkwall. That is where this story falls loosely into AU. I also note this because each death of her family will be mentioned as it pertains greatly to the progression of the end.

_Disclaimer: I do not own these amazing characters or this amazing world, unfortunately. I do however, claim rights to my Hawke. :)_

**Full Circle**

**Chapter Sixteen: Strength in Loss**

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><p>Hawke awoke in the Fade, silently praying for the Maker to watching over her and the others in the coming endeavor. The place she awoke made her heart tighten with remembered pain. She was standing in the basement of the factory where they had found her mother; in fact, she stood in the very spot where she had held Leandra as she died. Never had she blamed her daughter. In the final moments of her life, Leandra had expressed her love and her gratitude, but never any blame or resentment. Even thinking of it now made tears slip from her silver eyes. She knelt in that spot and laid her palm against the stone floor, closing her eyes. It was a strange thing but she swore she could feel her mother there, the warmth of her smile, the comfort of her touch, the relief of coming home each day to hear her soothing voice. The one time she had failed to protect her had haunted her over the years; there was nothing she regretted more than that one night. If she had only been faster, stronger, or cleverer; she may have been able to save her. A soothing balm settled over her heart and she sighed as warmth surrounded her kneeling body; her mother <em>was<em> here. She stood to her feet and allowed her eyes to open as she surveyed the room. She tried to recall its layout, hard as that was; remembering the way had not been paramount back then. This _was_ the Fade. There was no telling exactly where one was at.

As she moved to walk toward the only exit she could see, Hawke was interested to see that she was once more clad in her Champion Mage robes. The power she had wielded in these robes had been astounding, reinforced by her strong desire to save Kirkwall from itself. She had stopped walking to look upon them, feeling stronger just by wearing the armor, even if that dreaded chain link collar – the Fade Collar – was settled around her neck like a noose. She clenched her hands and nodded to no one save herself and then sprinted up the stairs, taking them two at time, before she threw open the door she found at the top.

Determined eyes took in the sight before her. It was the Deep Roads she found herself in; that very platform at the top of the stairs that led to their freedom where her brother, Carver, had taken his final breath. It was as if the Fade was determined to weaken her by making her relive all the loss in her life. She frowned and knelt in the spot where she had murdered her brother at his behest; he had not wanted to suffer the lengthened death the dreaded Blight disease would have forced upon him. The only way to save him would have been to find a Grey Warden, but none had been in her reach and so she had to let her baby brother find peace in the Maker's arms. More tears slid down her cheeks as she knelt down, much as she had before, to place her hand palm down to the surface where his blood had spilled.

"We didn't always get along brother, I know that, but I have not forgotten you for a single moment. I am sorry I couldn't save you; you were much too young to die," she whispered as she almost caressed the ground by running her palm back and forth upon it.

_Don't fear, sister, I am at your side for now. _The words drifted across her mind; it was a memory, she was sure. He had had spoken those very words to her once before in a heated argument in Uncle Gamlen's hovel that they had called home once arriving in Kirkwall. She _was_ sure it was a memory but there was a part of her that said no, it wasn't a memory, and that his was there, reassuring her – something very unlike her brother. That warmth from before encircled her, but it was stronger, much stronger, and held so much of a cocky arrogance feel that she was certain it _was_ Carver; as if he were here with her, much as she had sworn her mother had been.

"Thank-you, Carver. I love you, little brother." She smiled and smacked the spot on the ground almost playfully before righting herself and jumping the staircase to sprint down the seemingly endless road.

There was no door but suddenly she found herself standing in the Gallows, amongst the corpses of both Templar and Mage alike. Orsino's demon altered form lay as lifeless as the rest of the corpses. Her blood boiled at the remembered thought that the First Enchanter had resorted to Blood Magic to fight off the Templar incursion. Hawke had once thought him above such things, but that had quickly fallen to former judgments in her past when she had learned that Orsino had known the mage whom had callously tried to alter her mother into a twisted recreation of his deceased wife. The First Enchanter had known of him, of his research, and had even kept him from the Templar's hands and free of the circle. In a direct way, Orsino had been responsible for her mother's death. He had made his own decisions all for the sake of survival, leaving Hawke to feel no remorse when she struck that final blow ending his life.

It wasn't Orsino, the fallen Templars, or even the fallen mages that were of importance to her. This had been where Meredith had sheathed her sword in her baby sister's chest, killing the least dangerous mage in all of Thedas. Her sister had been kind, caring, and nothing other than a compassionate young woman who helped whenever she was called upon. Very rarely did young Bethany ever think of herself, which had been her downfall when Hawke and Carver had gone to the Deep Roads for the life changing expedition that had given the Hawke family status in Kirkwall. Escorting her mother during her shopping trips had allowed the Templars to finally catch her outside of big sister Hawke's protective shield. When Hawke had arrived home she had found poor Bethany being led from Gamlen's house to be forced into the circle. In a manner of weeks, Leandra had lost the twins(in one way or another).

Even if the Templars had dared to lock up her sister, Hawke had made certain no one dared to lay a hand on her sister for fear of her retribution. Only Meredith had dared to defy her when she slew her upon this very stone; Hawke had made sure she had regretted. Even if Meredith had tried to slay her next, Hawke would have felled the crazy bitch.

"Oh Bethany, you were far too sweet and innocent to suffer a fate as grisly and unjust as this; one of the many reasons I cannot blame Anders for what he did." She sighed and raised her arms above her as if to embrace a ghost of her sister. As if on cue a feeling of pure innocent and unconditional love enveloped her; first at her fingers tips then spread up her arms to seep into her chest where it wrapped itself around her heart.

_Don't worry; I will always be at your side, sister._ Bethany's voice resounded in her ears and tears slipped from her eyes to drop upon the floor on the spot where the young woman had perished. Hawke wrapped her arms around herself to hold that memory close.

With a smile, she dropped her arms to look upon the many corpses that littered the ground. "Rest easy, none of your deaths – whether you be Templar or Mage – were in vain." She said the words though they were only half true; the Templar-Mage conflict was ever present but she wanted the souls to have peace. More than ever Hawke was a believer that the dead could haunt the Fade; in a way the dream realm could function as limbo where souls could linger if they were not ready to move on to the afterlife at the Maker's side.

She turned to eye the stairs just beyond the gate that led to the prison that had once upon a time housed the mages of Kirkwall. Seeing it as the only exit, she made her way to it. She cried out surprised as she stepped off the final downward step, falling into what seemed like an endless oblivion. Just as she would have given up hope to find solid ground, she found herself standing on the floor of their home in Lothering. She saw younger versions of herself, Bethany, Carver, and Leandra, all gathered around a lone bed where an older man lay unmoving. As she looked upon that face she realized just what this memory was; Malcolm Hawke had died three years before they came to Kirkwall, her dear and beloved father.

She approached the bed, eyes glancing from figure to figure as they disappeared, leaving only her father once she stood beside it. Those silver eyes looked upon her father's relaxed face and his final, peaceful smile. He had not wanted to leave them yet but had been grateful that he could pass onto the next life surrounded by his cherished children and his beloved wife.

_Remember Necroditei, you are the oldest; the majority of the responsibilities will fall to you as head of the household. You and your sister must be careful; your magic will draw unwanted attentions to your doorstep and you must be ever vigilant to stay free. As I protected you for so many years, you must protect yourself and your sister. I expect Carver to protect you as well, as stubborn as the boy is. Hawke's are destined for greatness; I have a feeling you will change the world my beloved daughter. I may be gone but please remember that I am forever with you. I love you all, my beloved children._

His words floated to her as if he were really speaking to her and as she relived his final words, she leaned down to press a gentle kiss to his relaxed brow. "If only you knew how much your children have done, father," she whispered with a smile. She laid her hands upon his chest and, as if by magic, he turned into light and disappeared into her palms, spreading throughout her body as confidence and a comforting balm.

_I know, dear daughter, and I am with you._ His words resounded in her mind and she felt a sob escaping her though a smile was wide and evident on her lips. "Thank-you, father; take care of mother, Bethany, and Carver in my stead. I did the best I could," she sighed.

_I know you did. _

She fell silent and allowed his words to soothe her guilty conscious. As if by the Maker's guiding hand, her family had returned to her; they found a home around her heart to blanket and warm her, strengthen her, empower her with their belief in her ability to conquer all. "I miss you all more dearly than you can comprehend and I will always love you. Never will you fade from my heart or my memories; I promise you – and yes, even you, Carver, you pain in my ass." She felt his answering irritation but genuine laughter and gently laughed in turn as she laid her hand upon her breastplate.

The room around her began to blur and she blinked her eyes rapidly to make it clear. Soon she realized it wasn't her eyes, but the Fade reshaping itself around her. She found herself in a large, lavishly decorated room bathed wholly in red; blood red. The curtains, the bedspread, the couches, the loveseats, the chairs, the rug; everything was red, even the desks and wooden furniture pieces were a dusky, dark red. She had never been in such a room before but found herself intrigued as to why the Fade saw to bring her to this room of all places.

"Do as you are told or suffer the consequences," a male voice drawled, one she knew she should recognize given she had heard it some time ago. However, as much as she struggled with it the more she found it harder to place.

"_Vadeve Venhedis!" _She heard someone growl in response her body jerking reflexively when she realized that voice belonged to no one other than Fenris. She had heard him say those words before, on occasion – he'd told her one time when she asked that it meant 'to the void with you' or 'go to the void'.

She couldn't help but give a silent prayer of thanks to find that Fenris had made it to the Fade with her, despite the implied situation that was happening. Suddenly Fenris came flying through the open door, blasted by some unseen magical spell that crashed him into the trunk at the end of the bed. She gasped and covered her mouth as she watched him stumble to his feet, his mossy jade eyes narrowed in anger at the mage coming into the room. Fenris spat the blood from his mouth that had pooled from him biting his cheek, his hands balled into fists as his lyrium markings glowing blue in the maroon room.

"I'll kill you," the elf hissed to which the mage only laughed to in response. It was suddenly there, the recollection returning at the sight of the man's face. This was Denarius, the Magister from Tevinter who had once claimed ownership of her friend; also the very man who had put him through a horribly excruciating ritual to imbue him with lyrium to make him an unstoppable weapon who was forced to protect the Magister through slavery.

"Fenris," she whispered his name in response and he jerked, looking around the room as if to find her but it was apparent after a few minutes she could tell that he really couldn't see her.

"You cannot kill me, elf. You're a slave, you always will be." The Magister chuckled and idly swirled his hand, enveloping Fenris in a crushing prison that lifted the elf into the air and wracked his body in pain.

"Stop it this instant!" Hawke shouted with her mightiest voice and, as if he heard her, the Magister looked in her direction. His attention was diverted enough that Fenris broke free of his spell, charging forward in a phase as he glistened that strange but enticing blue. His hand shot into the Magister's chest, gripping his heart. He promptly pulled the heart from within his breast with an evil smirk, tossing it atop the dead body as it crumpled to the ground. He spat on the floor beside the body, mumbling some Tevinter curses she was unfamiliar with.

"Fenris," she said his name in question as she took a step toward him.

He snapped around with a growl but in an instant his expression softened once he saw her standing there before him. In two strides he was pulling her into a half awkward hug before stepping back. "You distracted him, I am alive because of you," he said.

"It's the Fade Fenris," she said with a half smile, "you never trust your eyes or senses here. Things are never what they seem. I am glad you made it."

"What do you mean?" he asked, cocking his head. In that instant she realized he was still in the Fade's manipulating hands and had not recalled yet why he was here. She lifted her hand to grasp the collar, grunting as it briefly sent a shock through her and he jerked, as if shocked by it as well. "That's right… the Fade collar," he whispered. "So this was no more than a trick of the demons," he then muttered with a scowl.

"Yes, but it's alright. It's gone now. Watch," she gestured to the room around them and as if on cue with Fenris realizing it was no more than an illusion, the room blurred and began reshaping itself before they found themselves standing in a field, surrounded by burning trees and bloody corpses of Templars and Grey Wardens.

Fenris growled and suddenly he had his giant broadsword in his hand as he took a defensive stance among the abattoir of mangled and massacred bodies. "What is this?" he snarled. "Is this another illusion?"

Hawke nodded though she looked a little frightened at the sight before her. She felt her family flutter inside, swelling within until she no longer felt afraid but instead slightly perplexed by the illusion. This was no memory of hers and given Fenris' reaction, it was not a memory he recalled either; however, in the ritual that had bestowed upon him those markings had taken away his memories as well. There was no way for her to ascertain whether or not this was a memory of his or…well, Anders. Or – she swallowed hard at this thought – Maker forbid, Justice.

"I…I am not certain what this is," she said with mixed emotions. He scowled more deeply and began to stalk among the field, surveying the catastrophic damage that had been dealt.

It was then, at the far end of the field beside a tree, that she saw Anders. He was sitting, his knees drawn up to his chest and his head in his hands; she couldn't be sure, but she swore she saw him rocking to and fro. "Fenris stay here," she said firmly, knowing the elf's distaste for the mage. He turned to look at her and, when he followed her line of vision, he merely grunted his acquiescence.

* * *

><p>AN: Hope the update was worth the wait. My muse has to be cooperative...


	17. True Friendship

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything of DA2! That privilege belongs solely to Bioware; lucky bastards!_

**Full Circle**

**Chapter Seventeen: True Friendship**

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><p>Hawke started the walk toward Anders, stepping over each corpse of both Templar and Grey Warden that came into her path. Fenris remained where she'd asked, she saw as she glanced back before she found herself kneeling beside the ex-Grey Warden mage. He was indeed rocking back and forth with his arms wrapped tightly around his drawn up knees. She gently laid her hand upon his arm and he stilled violently.<p>

"Anders, it's me, Hawke. It's alright, you're safe," she whispered the words to him comfortingly.

"I don't know you," he moaned out, shaking his head though he didn't lift it. "Where's Amell? Why did she abandon me? This wouldn't have happened…"

"You left Amell Anders, remember. You left the Wardens."

He moaned again and began rocking. His whole body was trembling and she swore she heard hitches of breathes that were subdued sobs. "I just wanted to help him. I just wanted to help."

"What happened Anders? What's wrong?" She touched him again this time touching her fingers to his hair.

"Justice, I just wanted to help him. We were going to bring a stop to the injustice that mages are forced to endure. We were going to return the children to their parents and free the mages from all the circles, bring ruin to the Templars…" He violently shook his head and her hand fell from it. "We merged…and they saw…thought I was an abomination! Wardens brought the Templars to me and I…I started burning inside and then…I killed them all…wardens I had once called friends, I killed them."

Hawke let her silver eyes lift from this broken man to survey the amassed bodies that were strewn like discarded trash amongst the blades of grass that made this field. So…the chantry hadn't been the first time Justice had messed up Anders' life. With a frown, she turned her eyes back to Anders and wrapped her arms around him.

"Listen to me, Anders. Listen closely," she started as she laid her cheek against the top of his head. "This wasn't you. Justice did this, just as he was the one to destroy the chantry and the one who tried to kill me; that wasn't you."

She felt him shake his head again. "We wouldn't have done it had he not merged with me, I changed him; it was me." He was definitely crying now, she could feel it in the way his body shook in her arms.

"Anders, stop it this instant! This isn't even real and I have a feeling I could spend eternity trying to explain to you that nothing Justice has done is your fault, but I need you to snap out of it!" She exclaimed as she stood and stomped her foot on the ground. "Please Anders, I don't want to die…" she whispered the words almost helplessly; never had Hawke been helpless. She was the Champion of Kirkwall, the sole slayer of the Arishok, she had even downed the crazed Meredith; how did one measly little collar make her fear mortality?

His head jerked up and for the first time she saw his face; his eyes were wide and red rimmed, as if he'd been crying for hours, his lips chewed upon by his teeth, stubble along his jaw. He looked a wreck and her heart went out to him. He blinked several times as he looked upon Hawke in all her glory, dressed in the robes that shouted she was Champion. The haze over his eyes seemed to clear and he stood slowly to his feet, dressed in those very same black robes he'd wore the day the chantry explosion had occurred. His amber gaze watched her closely, assessing her with almost uncomfortable scrutiny, and she figured he was trying to ascertain if she really was Hawke or merely a trick illusion the Fade was trying to use against him. Very slowly he raised a hand and touched his calloused fingertips to her cheek and trailed them from her cheek to her jaw, then her jaw to her chin before he dropped his hand with a nod.

"It really is you, Hawke." He couldn't help the smile that lit his eyes with a spark of his former self, a part of him that had been before Justice had forever changed him. She nodded and he then moved his eyes from her to look around him, half turning to survey the field. "I never wanted you to see this," he admitted softly.

"Is this from when you merged with Justice?" She asked, a little curious though she didn't want to hurt him; she hoped he'd want to confide in her.

Anders nodded slowly, briefly glancing upon Fenris before he returned his gaze to Hawke. "Aye. It wasn't the cleverest thing I've ever done. I merged with Justice right here, one of the wardens saw…wish I could remember his name…but he assumed I'd given into demons and become an abomination. He summoned the Templars and I killed them. He watched, afraid, then tried to run…I ripped off his head. Well, we did, Justice and me."

Hawke gasped and lifted a hand to her mouth, looking at all the carnage that had been released by Justice's corruption. "Anders, I'm so sorry that you had to go through that," she said softly, pulling the mage to her to hold him. He wrapped his arms around his waist and they held each other for a moment before they parted. "Come, we need to get on with this, Fenris is waiting for us." She took his hand and they began to step over the bodies, making their way back over to the elf where he stood, arms crossed, waiting for them. Just as she reached him the world around them began to shift again, blurring before fading away leaving them in complete darkness.

"Anders? Fenris? Are you still here?" She called.

"Aye." They both replied.

"Why is it all black now?" She asked but before she could be answered, the light came back though it came in a sudden burst that blinded them, all of them throwing their arms over their eyes as pain shot through them from the sheer brightness. When she dared to lower her arm and open her eyes the brightness had faded and she was standing at the edge of seemingly endless pool, in the center there was a simple little lagoon of soft green land. The area all around was still dark and Hawke feared that if she stepped back she would fall into nothingness. "The light is gone, it's safe to open your eyes," she told them. They both lowered their arms to look around just as she had. "Is this familiar to either of you?"

Anders shook his head and when she looked over to Fenris he shook his head as well. Hawke frowned and turned her eyes back to the island jerking when she saw a woman lounging there.

"I see my dearly departed Commander has used my gift after all," she purred, sounding strangely like Hawke. She came to stand slowly, as if she floated, and Hawke could see that she looked a lot like a desire demon with that purple tinted skin and scanty robe, but she had Hawke's silver eyes, her lips, nose, hair(though two large maroon horns sprouted from under the auburn locks); Hawke essentially felt as if she were staring into the mirror and seeing what she may have been if she gave into a demon's temptations.

Anders suddenly had his staff, glaring at the look-alike as Fenris took his broadsword from his back and took a defensive stance half in front of Hawke.

"You must be Captivate," Hawke said after a moment.

"Ah, so I see Cullen must have mentioned me," the demon said with a giggle, hand fluttering to her mouth so that she could try to at least stifle her amusement. Then she lowered and Hawke found that the demon's silver eyes were locked on her like she was prey. "Indeed I am and while I am pleased that you are here, I am afraid we must wait for my new…friend." Again the demon laughed, but this time it was loud and unhindered, making Hawke shudder with distaste.

"Your friend?" Fenris growled at the words his lyrium marking flashing their impressive light.

"Aha, so that's how you got in," Captivate's eyes twinkled as she looked at Fenris now. "I was wondering how a non-mage managed to sneak into my domain." Fenris' lip curled as she idly waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. "It's of little importance."

"Whom are you speaking of?" Anders demanded as sparks began to dance around his body as his mana pooled in his Fade body should he have need to call upon it.

Captivate's eyes turned to Anders and the sly smile that curled over her lips had them all very worried and suddenly overly anxious. "Oh don't worry; you are all very well acquainted."

It was then that a violet light flashed and a portal opened just to Captivate's side and Hawke was slightly uncertain to what was taking place before her. A shadowed figure stepped through and her stomach lurched when the portal disappeared and she found herself staring at the exact mirror image of Anders, save for those dreadfully flaring blue empty eyes and that glowing and cracked skin; it wasn't Anders, they all knew damn well that they were staring at Justice.

"Justice! What are you doing?" Hawke demanded as she moved to stand in front of Fenris, only a matter of ten feet separating her and the demon who was now trailing a hand over Justice's chest. "Resorting to demons now, are you?" She said with disgust; she had at least thought the spirit above that.

Captivate laughed softly as she moved to stand behind Justice, floating up just high enough so that she placed her chin upon his head, her arms around his neck, hands caressing the spirit's chest almost lovingly. "He was quite willing to surrender himself to me," she purred. "As corrupted as he was, I'm astonished he didn't become a demon all on his own."

"He did, in his own way," Anders said, his voice cracking softly as his hands tightened around his staff so tight Hawke worried that his palms may start bleeding.

"Indeed," Captivate giggled. "Now my pet, listen closely to me, haunting that rebellious ex-Grey Warden has not worked out at all, instead I want you to merge yourself with that young woman; without her magic she is helpless to stop you." Justice didn't say a word but instead just nodded, beginning to walk toward them, Anders and Fenris throwing themselves in front of her and shoving her back out of harm's way.

_This is what she had wanted all along? For Justice to merge…with me? _

* * *

><p>AN: And there is the big twist! ^_^ We are getting very close to the end, so I would like to open the votes – who should Hawke end up with, Sebastian, or Anders, if she manages to come out of this unscathed? Please review and let me know.


	18. Tempering Justice

**A/N:** I've been thinking this may go on longer than I originally planned; lots of ideas have been cropping up. We'll see what happens.

_Disclaimer: I don't own DA2; Bioware retains that privilege! Lucky! _

**Full Circle**

**Chapter Eighteen: Tempering Justice**

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><p>Justice was approaching them with his lips pressed flat with determination. He held an identical staff that matched Anders' and even as Anders and Fenris placed themselves before her, he did not falter in his path toward her. Captivate used the moment of distraction the spirit provided to appear behind them, pressing a hand to each of her companion's backs; they jerked and their mouths opened in soundless agony before they dropped to their knees. Both were conscious but unable to move, she saw, their eyes frantically finding her and muscles twitching as they tried almost desperately to move. Captivate simply giggled and turned to face Hawke as Justice sidled up to her side.<p>

"All yours," Captivate purred.

Hawke frowned tightly, her body trembling. "What is it you hope to achieve with this?"

"Oh that's simple enough, my love," the demoness started as she laid her hand on Justice's shoulder to cease his movements toward her. "_Your_ bloodline is the most powerful mage bloodline I have ever come across. The Hawke blood mixed with the already powerful Amell blood; there is no doubt that you would never fall prey to a demon's wiles willingly. There is only one option left to possess you; using my life to subdue your connection to the Fade making you a powerless vessel in which a spirit could occupy without any magical resistance."

Hawke's body trembled and she could see in her peripheral vision that Anders and Fenris were straining to move so strenuously that the entire length of their bodies were trembling from the effort. She swallowed and stared at her look alike, clenching her hands to steady them; she knew Anders and Fenris could free themselves, she just had to keep the opposition distracted long enough. "I don't understand. What have you to gain by possessing a mage without her magic?"

Captivate giggled again. "Put two and two together, dear Hawke. The collar doesn't cut the connection to the Fade so we can possess you, but it inhabits your magic so you are powerless and – the decisive definitive pivotal point – the collar is only _temporary._"

"What makes you think you can possess me even if I am not wielding my magic? I don't resort to demons. _**Ever**_."Hawke growled out the last word, biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself steady.

"You won't have a choice, little Hawke," the demoness clicked her tongue against her teeth.

"There is always a choice, demon. I am still me; I will fight with everything in me, with or without my magic."

Captivate's eyes gleamed with feral pleasure as she took her hand from Justice's shoulder. "We shall see, won't we?" she taunted as the spirit began his walk toward her again.

Hawke swallowed thickly and kept her chin up as the spirit came to stand before her; if she had thought Justice's flaring blue eyes had seemed empty before, it was explicitly prominent now. The Justice she had known had not been so compliant nor as lifeless in personality as the one standing before her did. "Justice – this isn't you; you merged with Anders to help bring justice to all the mages tormented by the Templars. You don't deal with demons and you certainly don't let them control you. You have lost your way, but it's not too late to find a path back," Hawke said softly, not moving an inch.

He said naught a word nor did his set expression change. Hawke steeled herself; there was nothing she could do physically. If he saw fit to try and take possession of her, she would have to face the confrontation inside of herself. Slowly the spirit's lips curled into a sadistic smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes. Urged on by Captivate's words, he took a hand and lifted it toward her face. She swallowed and allowed her eyes to close, body trembling as Justice's palm pressed to her, his fingertips taking hold on the outlines of her face as he palmed it. She gasped and shook in his hold as he used his other arm to pull her flush against him; electric sparks began dancing along her nerves, blue light ensnaring the both of them, her lips parted as she panted from the pain. The blue light flared to blind everyone around them before it reached its crescendo and then began to dim as the form of Justice began to fade and disappear into the shaking body of the mage in his hold. She jerked and cried out, grabbing at her chest and glowing until it was just she standing there. The light faded and she stopped trembling, her arms falling limply to her sides. Slowly she allowed her eyes to open and found herself staring into the very intrigued eyes of her demon counter-part. Something in her shifted and she grit her teeth, taking that feeling and letting it wrap around her heart, much as her family's spirits had. It collided with the spirits and she felt a burst of fire in her chest, hands clutching at her chest as she faltered and fell to her knee.

_We won't let you have her._ Her father and her mother whispered in unison.

_No demon haunts my sister, I won't allow it. _Bethany chimed in.

_Hah! Like she'd need our help – she's fought off worse. Not without my help, of course. _Carver said cockily.

The fire spread and it whirled within her body, silent cries of agony falling past her lips as she panted and set a hand upon the ground. It clashed with an electric current, swirling together into a tempest of unfathomable power inside her chest.

_She is pure of heart; we can return this spirit to its original state_. Malcolm declared as the swirling of power grew to greater and greater builds. _Don't fear my precious daughter. You will temper Justice and he will become you, giving you the power he desperately wanted to use for good. _

_You are the beacon of hope we need for the mages, sister. _Bethany flooded her with healing warmth and eased some of the pain within her. It didn't last for long.

The electric lightning shot through every limb, every nerve, making Hawke fall back onto the ground beneath her with a cry of agony. Hey body began to jerk, twitching and flopping about on the ground, her friends watching on almost helplessly while Captivate merely floated there with a smirk across her lips.

_Come sister, fight with us. Let's teach this abomination a lesson is ass-kicking! _Carver urged her on, flooding her with his arrogance that, if she hadn't been in so much pain, she would have laughed.

* * *

><p>"What's going on in there?" Sebastian groaned out as he held Hawke in his lap, her body continuously jerking in his hold.<p>

Varric came to stand beside him, placing a hand on the prince's shoulder. "I'm sure she will be fine. Our champion does not give in so easily!" he exclaimed with half-feigned confidence; he too was beginning to worry for her. They'd all been unconscious for hours as still as death and then suddenly Hawke had begun convulsing on the bed. Sebastian had run to her side, scooping her up and holding her as her body flopped about.

"Maker I hope so," Sebastian said brokenly. "I cannot stand it if something were to happen to her."

"We all feel the same, Sebastian," Isabella assured him in a rare moment of genuine concern.

"Come on Hawke!" Varric urged her on, hoping beyond hoping she could hear them and rally.

* * *

><p>The energy had been battling inside of her for so long she wasn't sure how long she had been tossing upon the ground. She thought she could hear the other waiting for her beyond this place; she felt Anders and Fenris' eyes on her, watching on almost helplessly. Her family, her friends, her loves; they were all there with her, urging her on. It caused her heart to swell with pride and love, pushing that fire in her chest out along her nerves and into every limb, wrapping its fiery tendrils around the lightning sparks. They clashed together as Justice tried to infuse himself into her being, the fire molding him, shaping him, returning him to the pure light of Justice he had once been before being warped by bitter anger. The fire and the sparks came together, clinging to each other before fading completely in a flare of power; she felt the peak of the clash before it soaked into her veins, her muscles, every part of her being. She fell back upon the ground panting; a blue flare very similar to Justice's was glowing around her trembling, perspiring form. She swallowed thickly and very slowly sat up on the ground, before pushing herself to her feet to find a very eager demoness watching her intently.<p>

Slowly Hawke lifted a hand to the Fade Collar around her neck and grasped it. "Thank-you, everyone, and thank-you Justice, I won't let your power go to waste," Hawke rasped much to Captivate's disappointed, angry glare. Smirking, the mage then pulled the collar from her neck with no trouble and then proceeded to toss it to the ground at the demoness feet. Hawke's tilted her head back with a pleasure-tinted sigh, magic thrumming through her body, her connection to her mana pool almost euphoric. It was all the more exhilarating as she remembered but it was more potent, tinged with an ancient Fade spirit's magic presence that she knew was Justice – but he was calm, at peace, flowing through her to provide an almost endless feeling source of energy. She lowered her head and slightly glowing silver eyes found Captivate's own silver pools.

"You will regret this day, demon," Hawke said with a slight hiss. Gathering her magic she shot forth an area of effect neutralization spell, freeing Anders and Fenris from whatever magic Captivate had cast upon them. They both fell to the knees and panted for a long moment, before they shot up to their feet and turned to face the demoness. She was surrounded now, whether or not she realized it at first. Anders held his staff before him, his eyes dancing anxiously over every inch of Hawke to make sure she was alright and that Justice hadn't taken her over like he had with him.

"Are you of sound mind, Hawke?" Fenris asked wearily, holding his sword before him.

Keeping eyes locked the demoness', Hawke smiled very slowly. "Indeed. You underestimated me, demon. A pure heart can reverse any corruption and now you have merged with me a power greater than your own. Justice has returned to the spirit he once was and is merged with my magic, my connection, and now we will kill you."

"No – wait," the demoness implored, holding her hands before her. "Don't be rash, little Hawke. I can give you any power you desire. Any person you desire. Any position or status in your world you wish to claim. Simply spare me and it will be so."

"Don't listen to her lies, Hawke," Fenris growled.

Hawke nodded. "I don't deal with demons," she whispered, blue flaring in her silver eyes as she dashed forward to grab the demoness by her throat with both hands. The demon squirmed and tried desperately to pull her hands off her throat, but Hawke merely "tsk'd" her and shot all of that energy in her – from her mother, her father, brother, sister, and even, mainly, Justice – straight into the demon's mouth from her own as she kissed her. The demon could do nothing more than whimper beneath Hawke's lips and swallow the energy. Hawke then stepped away and dropped her, the demon falling to her knees before she screamed and exploded into dust from the inside out.

"Come, let us leave this place. I've got a life to live and I don't plan to squander it," Hawke said as she held out a hand to each of them. Fenris and Anders both stared at her for a moment as if sizing her up, wondering if she really was herself or not, but they must have seen her soul shining through those mercury eyes for they hesitated no longer and took her hand. Hawke's magic flared and burst from her, blasting the Fade around them to shattered pieces and allowing them to fall into the welcoming oblivion that would lead them back to reality.

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><p><strong>AN: **The next chapter was intended to be the last, however, I am curious. As I mentioned before, I have had thoughts of continuing it; what do my readers think? Review and let me know! Also, last chance for votes of whom Hawke will be with, Anders or Sebastian. :)


	19. Making Choices

**A/N: **So...I have decided to continue this, so this will not be the last chapter, after all. As for Hawke's love interest, the man won by a good amount, so cheers to him! :D

_Disclaimer: I do not own Da2, or anything that Da2 contains. _

**Full Circle**

**Chapter Nineteen: Making Changes**

* * *

><p>They all woke at once, each giving a groan as their eyes fluttered open. Fenris sat up and rubbed the back of his neck with a sigh, Anders doing the same though his eyes sought out Hawke immediately only to find her in Sebastian's arms. He swung his legs over the bed and stood, stretching his body. Hawke found herself looking into Sebastian's concerned eyes and smiled softly, moving out of his embrace to stand on her own two feet. With all eyes on her she lifted her hand to the collar on her neck and easily plucked it from her, setting it on the bed.<p>

"You did it!" Varric exclaimed with excitement. Sebastian's eyes widened though he smiled.

Hawke nodded. "Yes, in a sense I did it."

"How did you do it?" Sebastian asked, suddenly feeling very wary of her answer.

"I'm intrigued as well," Isabella admitted from her seat at the table.

Hawke looked at them all before she shared knowing glances with both Fenris and Anders. They both nodded their heads and she sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. "It's a tad difficult to explain, but I want to stress that you are not to over react or freak on me. Is that understood?" She paused before she got anxious nods. She dropped her arms and took a deep breath, summoning the strength she had received from merging with Justice; that blue flaring aura started to build around her and her mercury eyes suddenly had a cerulean ring surrounding each iris. Sebastian jumped to his feet in shock, while Isabella and Varric just sort of stared at her perplexed.

"You…Justice is inside _you?_" Sebastian almost growled out, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

Hawke held her hands up, palms out to implore him to listen to her. "It's not exactly what you think, Sebastian."

"By all means explain Hawke, because all I can imagine is that crazed spirit is possessing you!" He ground out, suddenly finding all eyes in the room on him. Anders had turned, his own hands shutting into fists at the prince's attitude toward her, though he could not blame the man for his worry. Just look at what Justice had done when he had been merged with Anders; who could blame anyone for worrying what the spirit would do with Hawke next.

"Justice isn't inside of me, exactly. We encountered Captivate," Hawke began explaining as she sat back on the edge of the bed, the aura fading, beside Fenris who Sebastian found was not wary to sit beside her, a mage who could very well be possessed by a warped spirit, as bad as any demon. That eased his worry a little, not much, but at least a bit. "She had Justice under her control, somehow. She had wanted the collar to be placed on me so that I would be useless to use my magic to protect myself; this was so that Justice could take my body without any resistance. Throughout my journey through the Fade I had found that the spirits of my family had been waiting for me. They merged with me one by one, so when Justice tried he came against not only them, but my own fortified spirit. Maker, was it painful. Justice was a bolt of lightning while my family was fire; they warred within my body. I fell to the ground and convulsed while my spirit merged with the fire. The fire spread within my body, following everywhere Justice tried to claim. Then the fire spread over him, around him; it cleansed him. I pulled Justice deep within myself and together we all made him pure again; where there lies no corruption can purity be restored. He became himself again and then he sealed himself within me, feeding me every ounce of his power and knowledge before ceasing to be as an entity. Justice is with me, though in a sense, he is gone as well." Hawke sighed softly. "I know it's difficult to understand, but it's the truth."

"She does not lie," Fenris said then and Anders repeated a moment there after.

The silence then stretched for a very long moment. Isabella, Varric, and Sebastian were staring at her like she had lost her mind. She couldn't stand it for long, so when no one decided to speak, she stood and pressed her hands to her hips. "Bethany and my father told me that Thedas needs hope; they couldn't be more right. Since Justice blew up the Chantry the world has begun falling apart. I have to set it right and with Justice's power and my own, I finally have the strength to set things straight. The Chantry, the Templars, The Divine; they're all eager to jump at the chance to destroy any and all mages. What they need to come to understand is that all mage's are not guilty. Just as there are some innocent Templars, there are mages as well; I have to make the world see that. I must seek out the Divine and reason with her before another Exalted March comes about."

Sebastian took a step toward her and then grasped her shoulders in his hands, slightly shaking her as Anders visibly shook to restrain himself. "You must be addled somehow; you wouldn't have thought of this before. Allowing that abomination inside of you is making you irrational." He snapped out.

"Sebastian, enough." Hawke whispered the words and gently took his hands from her shoulders. "You did what you felt was right so long ago, leaving because I spared someone who killed someone very important to us. Now I must do what I feel is right and set this warped land on a proper path."

"If you stand against the Divine you will be killed," Sebastian groaned and squeezed her hands.

"I don't stand against her; I want to reason with her," Hawke said with a smile. "Violence is never the answer, Sebastian. Elthina taught me that; sometimes its necessary but it's never the solution. I don't have to just speak with her, there is much to do in Thedas that needs to be done." She paused and looked at all her companions. "Can we have a moment, please?"

Fenris, Isabella, and Varric all nodded and after long looks, they filed out of Varric's suite. Fenris remained by the door, leaning against the wall outside with his arms folded across his chest. Anders glared at Sebastian openly, before moving tortured eyes to Hawke; she nodded her head, sharing a stare with his amber gaze. After a soft sigh Anders shook his head and made his way out of the room, leaning against the wall opposite of Fenris once he had shut the door. Hawke looked back at Sebastian and squeezed his hands again, but he sighed and released her hands, pulling her into his arms.

"Don't do this, Hawke," he whispered against the auburn strands of her curly hair. "Come back to Starkhaven with me. Marry me; we'll have children, be happy, grow old together."

Hawke let her arms wrap around his neck and allowed herself to hold him. Her body shook and tears built in her eyes to slowly roll down her cheeks and drip from her chin. She laid her head on his shoulder and rested against him for what felt like eternity. Then she slowly extracted herself from his embrace, holding his hands in hers, staring into his perplexed beautiful blue eyes. She stood on her tip toes and pressed her lips very gently to his, brushing them back and forth, before pulling away.

"Hawke?" Sebastian said her name hesitantly, a little wary when she refused to let loose his hands so that he could wrap his arms around her again like he desperately longed to.

"Sebastian, you don't how badly I wish I could – "

"Hawke – "

"Sh, don't. I know what you are going to say." She squeezed his hands harder feeling the twitch in them. "You could no more stand to live with me now than you could before; a spirit of the Fade is within me now and if the anti-mage agenda progresses, your status could only go so far to protect me. I don't want you to pay with your life. I know that you could not stand to defy the Divine if she refuses to listen to me. As much as it pains me, Sebastian – as I have longed for you every day and every minute – we have to part ways."

"Hawke, we don't, we don't have to part ways; we can figure something out." He pleaded with her, shaking visibly, from what she wasn't certain.

Hawke swallowed and lowered her eyes somewhat in shame. "Would you still say that if you knew I had let myself lay with Anders?" She whispered the question.

Sebastian jerked as if he'd been slapped. "You…you let him touch you?" His voice cracked over the words as he took his hands from hers. She didn't raise her eyes and she didn't look at him but instead just nodded once, softly. He swallowed. "I can forgive that, Hawke, but I have to know…in our time apart…have you grown to love him?"

Hawke pursed her lips and then raised her head to find his tortured and hurt gaze. "I…I cannot lie to you, Sebastian; I love you, but yes, I love Anders as well. His life was changed forever and not entirely by his choice. He has suffered. I am all that he has left and I know that he would stand against the fires of hell to see the anti-mage opression end. This something he and I must do."

He clenched his hands as the anger settled in his chest; just as quickly it slipped away. He should not have expected her to irreversibly love him over this entire year they'd been apart, not after he'd abandoned her and vowed to return to kill her friend, and especially not after she had found it he had cooperated with Cullen to track her down. "I understand, Hawke," he whispered, his head hanging. She stepped up to him and raised his head, pressing her lips to his again. He groaned and pulled her to him, basking in this temporary euphoria.

She then stepped back and pulled herself from him. She set her fingertips against his lips and smiled. "I did love you, Sebastian, I really did; I won't ever forget you. And never you worry, this won't be the last you hear of me. I promise you that."

He kissed her fingertips and then held her hand. "Don't do anything reckless, Hawke. You better come back alive and don't start a war, I beg of you."

Very softly she pulled her hand back and gave him a wan smile. "I didn't start this war, Sebastian, but I want to stop it before more innocent people are hurt."

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><p>Isabella deemed to come with her, to her surprise. Varric decided to tag along as well, saying that he <em>had<em> to be there; who else was going to tell this story once she was done changing the world? Sebastian couldn't find it in himself to go with her, not fully behind her belief in taking this rebellion so far. He decided to return to Starkhaven. Fenris was torn, she could see, but she assured him it was his decision and that she wasn't out to let loose blood magic upon all of Thedas; she didn't want blood magic free, but she didn't want innocent mages to continue being punished for the simple fact they were born this way. After being tortured with it for a long while, he finally decided to come with her with a promise from her that they would try to help the slaves in the Magister's hands in Tevinter – she was quick to promise this as the Magister's were the mages that were most prone to using blood magic. And of course Anders agreed to come with her, much surprised by the fact that she didn't leave with Sebastian to be with him; a bud of hope in his heart dared to blossom that maybe she did love him.

Things had to be settled in Kirkwall before they left; Hawke made sure to go about doing that once the sun rose the next day.

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><p><strong>AN:** Reviews are loved, adored, and appreciated!


	20. Kirkwall

**A/N: **Glad to be of service.

_Disclaimer: Do not own anything of DA2._

**Full Circle**

**Chapter Twenty: Kirkwall**

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><p>That night Hawke had returned to her abandoned estate alone, insisting that all her companions stayed at The Hanged Man to remain inconspicuous as possible. She came to the front door that led to the foyer only to find it locked. Gathering a small jolt of lightning in her fingertips she zapped the lock, a satisfied smirk gracing her lips when it fell free from the door. She pushed the door open with a creak and moved inside, kicking it shut loudly behind her. As soon as she stepped inside she could see the estate had seen better days, probably even within the slaver's hands; cobwebs were everywhere, dust covered every surface, and the place had very obviously been ransacked she noticed as she stepped into the main room. No doubt the Templars had come here first to look for her and Anders before they had bolted from Kirkwall, her fear that they would kill him where she had failed to a very real concern. She made her way up the stairs, magic aura forming around her and then fanning out in a mystical air to churn up the dust, which was then floated out the windows as she opened them with an unseen hand.<p>

When she stepped into her old room she felt her heart wrench; it was just as torn apart here as the rest of the house had been. She rid the room of the dust the same as she had before and sighed softly as she came to stand before the haphazardly tossed bed. It took awhile due to her limited physical strength to set it right but once she had, she sat upon it with a soft yawn. Gathering a tiny fireball in the palm of her hand, she sent it into the hearth watching as the flames took hold to start the warming fire. Time passed, hours she was sure, as she stared into the flickering flames, her mind on the things to come; Thedas was barely tolerating mages. If things continued in this downward spiral, simply being born a mage would be punishable by death; there was no possible way she could allow that to happen.

With a groan of apprehension, she fell back onto the bed and allowed herself to fall into a fitful and restless slumber.

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><p>Sebastian stood just outside of the former Hawke manor with his arms folded over his majestic white breastplate as dawn began to break on the horizon. Hawke was to meet him so they could seek out the Guard and go about setting the city on a proper path; he agreed to stay and help her for this, though his pain-filled heart refused to let him follow her any further in this sudden desire to take on the world. As ruler of Starkhaven he could reinforce her indefinitely, but in good conscious he could not put his people at risk; not yet, at least. If she undoubtedly required his aid he knew he would be helpless to refuse her.<p>

As if on cue with his tormented thoughts of her the door to her home opened to allow her to walk out, adorned from head to toe in her Champion robes; the hood even which had been pulled up to better conceal her fire red hair and her well known face.

"Your armor…" he started as he came to stand straight.

Hawke smirked, barely seen in the shadows of her hood, her silver eyes gleaming. "They ransacked my home very well, but apparently checking beneath the floorboards was too complex. I found not only my champion gear, but a good deal of supplies I had stashed away, as well as my best staff." She said, her smirk turning into a fully fledged grin and she spun her Staff of Final Thought with an over exaggerated flourish.

He nodded and found her uplifting mood almost infectious. "You seem in a much better mood," he observed.

Setting the end of her staff on the ground and leaning against it, she nodded her head. However she did not enlighten him as to why. "Come, we should get to the Keep; they're to find the remnants of the night and we won't have very long to explain ourselves to the guard. If we are fortunate, Aveline kept her place as Guard Captain."

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><p>"Blasted Templars," Aveline grumbled beneath her breath. Her husband Donnic came to stand beside her to survey to grisly scene the Viscount's throne room offered them. "You think they would have learned from Meredith," she continued with her arms crossed, kicking her foot against the damned blade that had caused more than enough damage to the city.<p>

"At least the Knight-Commander's reign is at an end," Donnic commented hoping to ease his wife's duress.

"Indeed," Aveline sighed. "I was getting rather tired of being threatened by him and his _order_."

One of her guards came bursting in through the doors. "Captain, captain!"

Aveline and Donnic both turned to the man as he came to a bumbling stop in front of them. "What is it?" she asked.

"Sebastian, the Prince of Starkhaven is here, along with the Champion!"

They looked at each other with wide eyes, before Aveline looked back at the guard. "Hawke, Hawke is here?"

"Aye, captain. She is requesting an audience with you. They claim to have knowledge of what has occurred here," the guard explained.

"Show them in at once!"Aveline snapped. The guard nodded his head and turned to leave the room just as fast as he had entered it.

"It's hard to believe that Hawke is here," Donnic said softly as he surveyed the room. "Not that we should be surprised to hear of her involvement in this." His wife nodded; she was pretending to be indifferent but he knew that she was happy to know that her friend was still alive. A moment later the guard came back with two persons trailing behind him; Donnic could clearly see the Prince of Starkhaven in his majestic white armor and strolling beside him was indeed the Champion is her regal mage armor, carrying the staff he hadn't seen her wield since she had defeated Meredith. Aveline's eyes were trained on Hawke and no one else as they progressed through the throne room. She nodded to the guard and he left again to retake his post at the entrance to the keep leaving the pair to stand just before her and Donnic.

"Aveline! It's so good to see you," Hawke said with a smile as she lowered her hood to reveal her face.

Aveline couldn't help but smile. "Trouble seems to follow you around like a lost puppy," she commented wryly.

Hawke grinned sheepishly and shrugged her shoulders, helpless to deny it. Sebastian just shook his head and stepped forward, indicating the gruesome scene behind them. "I'm sure you are eager for an explanation," he started as both Aveline and Donnic nodded. "Knight-Commander Cullen was using the Scarlet blade, the very same one that led Meredith to insanity. It dragged him into the Fade where he made a deal with a demon for a way to seal a mage's power without making them tranquil." Hawke then stepped forward and passed off the collar to Aveline who raised a brow in question. "The demoness promised that if he placed this collar on a mage, it would seal their magic without making them tranquil so that they could get the most out of their torture. If the collar wasn't removed in a week, it would kill the mage wearing it."

"I never heard of this," Aveline practically growled.

"Neither had we," Hawke said with a sigh. "I was still on the run with Anders, trying to protect him; I knew where I had spared him, others would not. We were running severely low on supplies so he and I had no other choice but to plan to sneak into Kirkwall through one of the lesser known slaver tunnels. I put a sleeping spell on Anders and snuck in myself only to be caught in a trap. Cullen took me back to the Gallows and put the collar on me, before leaving me to his…friend, who was less than hospitable in his treatment of me. He took me to a small cell, hooked me to a chain much like a leash and left me with nothing other than a crappy cot and chamber pot. The only reason you cannot see the result of their abuse is because Fenris gave me some health potions since I was unable to heal."

Aveline clenched the collar tight in her hand and scowled, turning hateful eyes onto the Knight-Commander's corpse. "I specifically told him he was to tell me if he spotted you and that you were to be brought to me unharmed," she offered as she turned her eyes back to Hawke.

"Aye, I would never have connected you to this Aveline, but as Guard Captain you cannot stand against the Viscount of Kirkwall," she sighed and Aveline nodded grimly. "There is more to this story you need to be made aware of. Sebastian knows of what happened here," she said as she swept out a hand to gesture to the corpse on the throne.

"Cullen was using Hawke to bait me. I came to the Keep to bargain for her release after what I had seen them do to her. It was a trap; he was here waiting for me. Varric and I were ambushed. We had no choice but to retaliate. When it was just Cullen, he taunted me with the knowledge that only he could remove the collar. Then when I demanded his cooperation, he laughed and…" Sebastian swallowed. "He used the Scarlet blade to slit open his own throat amidst his laughter."

Donnic sucked in a breath. "Dear Maker…"

"How was the collar removed then?" Aveline asked looking down at the collar in her hand. "If Cullen was the only one able to remove it, how did you…?"

"Sebastian found Cullen's journal, which told him that any Fade being could remove the collar as long as they had a physical body. So we all came to the same conclusion – Justice," she explained to which Aveline scowled and raised her eyes to her friend. "He didn't cooperate, naturally. Anders, Fenris, and I went into the Fade to subdue him, but instead we came across Captivate – the demoness who had stolen my appearance and had been the one to seduce Cullen. She used Justice against us; she wanted him to merge with me to gain control over my body and my extraordinary magic. Though out my journey in the Fade, I came across my families' wandering spirits; they merged with me, so that when Justice attempted to do the same, they were able to use my pure heart to change him back to his original spirit. He then fused himself into my mana and became a part of not only me, but my magic. I have never experienced such a magic."

Aveline took a step toward her. "Justice is inside you?"

"In a sense," she held up her hands, palms out, much as she had with Sebastian. "He disappeared. He left me with his ancient knowledge and his magic, that's all. He cannot take my body, nor can he act or speak any longer."

"There is comfort in that knowledge, I suppose," Aveline sighed.

"Aye, that is true." Sebastian paced away a few steps and folded his arms across his chest. "Hawke doesn't intend to stop here, however."

"What does he mean, Serah Hawke?" Donnic asked.

"The Templars are out of control. You have seen this, Aveline. What Meredith did and what Cullen has done now, resorting to demons to collar and prison mages for torture; this cannot continue. I have no doubt this kind of treatment is progressing throughout all of Thedas. I will not resort to violence unless my life depends on it but I need to weed out the bad mages, the blood mages, and I need to speak with the Divine before this all goes too far; it's only a matter of time before being born a mage will be punishable by death," Hawke explained sadly, her eyes imploring her friend to share her belief. Aveline stared at her for a very long moment; her departed first husband had been a Templar but he had been one of the good ones. "I know not all Templars are evil, Aveline, just as I know not all mages are innocent. Something _has_ to change and _soon_."

The silence stretched until the tension was ripe to be split with a blade. Hawke worried her lower lip as she kept eye contact with Aveline; so much seemed to pass between them in that one look because then the Guard Captain nodded. "I can see your need to do this, Hawke, and I don't disagree with you. This was only a precursor of what is to come," she said. Sebastian turned to stare at her with disbelieving eyes but said nothing and only sighed. He seemed to be the only one who thought such a drastic measure wasn't necessary.

"I need a moment to speak with my husband," Aveline said, handing the collar back to Hawke before leaving the throne room with Donnic to speak in private.

Sebastian turned to look at Hawke, keeping his arms folded. His eyes implored her to choose him over this disastrous course. "Hawke, are you sure, really sure, you want to do this?" he asked softly.

"I don't have a choice," she said with a small smile. "Let's not have this discussion again, Sebastian." She sighed and paced over to where the Scarlet blade lay on the ground. She knelt before it tracing a fingertip across the blade, feeling the lyrium singing through an electrical touch. A frown crossed her lips as she took her finger away; she had to find a way to destroy it, it was much too dangerous. Just then Aveline came back in, this time alone.

"Hawke," she addressed her friend and Hawke stood, turning to face her. "I would like to appoint you Viscount of Kirkwall."

Hawke's eyes widened, as did Sebastian's. "I cannot be viscount with what I have to do, Aveline."

"The Viscount does not always have to be present; you can appoint me to lead in your absence, but even after you fled Kirkwall, the people demanded their Champion lead them. It is what they want, what we all want," her friend said with a smile. "And with this, the Guard will be at your back whenever you need us. I am afraid I cannot join you or leave Kirkwall, but I can lend you some of my soldiers should you need it. Supplies will always be at the ready and you can even take a merchant on the road with you."

"Are you sure this is possible, Aveline?" Hawke asked, uncertain.

"We have no one better than you to fill the position, Hawke. We shall correspond through letters with what you'd like done to the city; you don't have to be here in person to make a difference."

"As you wish then, Guard-Captain."

"Come then, you must address the people."

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><p>It was clear that the city's population was overjoyed to see their champion, cries of glory flying throughout the crowd gathered in the courtyard of the Keep. Cheers and hoots, even tears; it made Hawke realize just how much of a difference she had made before she had fled with Anders.<p>

"People of Kirkwall, I present to you, Champion, Necroditei Hawke, your Viscountess," Aveline addressed the people with her hands folded behind her back. Hawke nodded her head and half descended the stair case, Sebastian just behind her.

"People of Kirkwall, as your Champion, and now your Viscountess, I regret to inform you that Knight-Commander Cullen fell to the same insanity as former Knight-Commander Meredith. He took his own life in the Viscount's throne after dragging the Templar's down to nothing other than thugs and rapists. I have proven myself as a mage and proven to you that all mages are not evil, just as a mage I know that not all Templars are evil. The Gallows was made into a prison not even fit for the lowest of the low." Hawke shuddered to remember the small quarters that she had been chained in. Managing to suppress her scowl, she straightened her spine and clenched her fists as she surveyed with pride the almost disgusted looks of the citizens. "I will not tolerate this any longer. As Viscountess I will make a fair and just Circle of Magi and I will make the Templar Order what they should have been from the very beginning. I will not tolerate blood magic, nor will I tolerate mistreatment by the Templars against innocent mages!"

To her surprise, the crowd cheered her speech and she could have cried at the joy blossoming within her breast; perhaps Kirkwall wasn't as doomed as she had originally thought.

That night she would have to sit down with her Guard Captain and her companions to discuss the first leg of her journey. She turned her eyes onto Sebastian and frowned almost indiscernibly. It would also be the night she would say goodbye to the Prince of Starkhaven for he would be starting his return journey home. She turned her eyes back to the people and to her surprise, she saw Anders standing at the very back in the shadows, his eyes locked on her; there was pride in his features and she couldn't help but smile. This would also be the night she could go to him, unhindered by her emotions any longer – through this all she had realized that no one other than the mage was meant to be beside her. Only Anders understood her, only he accepted her – even now with Justice as a part of her – and only he would truly, and unconditionally, love her.

Her heart jumped in her chest and flipped nervously.

Strangely, she couldn't wait for the night to come.

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><p><strong>AN:** Smut next chapter! Yay! Reviews are loved and appreciated!


	21. Reprieve

**A/N: **I had a couple of ideas for this chapter, but a lot of it will be playing out on its own. Let my fingers do the thinking. Heh.

_Disclaimer: I own nothing of DA2, lands and characters, or otherwise. Story idea is all mine though!_

**Full Circle**

**Chapter Twenty-One: Reprieve **

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><p>Hawke stood in the foyer of her estate with Sebastian while the others – Fenris, Anders, and Aveline – went about fixing up the rather sad state of her home; she had tried to tell them she was more than capable, but after what she had been through, they wanted to help where they could and didn't let her argue. She could hear them talking amongst themselves and the shuffling of furniture as things were set right, trying to give back some of the estate's former glory. Sebastian was silent as he sat on one of the benches, his arms set on his bent knees, his blue eyes watching her intently.<p>

Softly, she sighed. "Sebastian…"

"Hawke," he sighed her name, interrupting her. "There are other options here."

As much as she cared for him, his insistent need to nag her on this choice was beginning to wear on her. She paced toward him and knelt, setting her hands atop his own. "Sebastian, this is the last time we will be able to see each other for a long time because this _is_ the only option I have." He moved as if to cut her off and she set a hand over his lips. "For me, it is the only option. How much longer will the world tolerate mages, Sebastian? If I were not Champion of Kirkwall, I would have suffered the same fate as all mages; thrown into the circle, beaten and raped by Templars – it's even fallen to the point where that _has_ happened to me. I cannot allow it to continue." She dropped her hand and stood, pacing away from him, not catching that he stood as well and followed her until she felt his hands on her shoulders.

"It could be different, Hawke. As princess of Starkhaven, no one would touch you," he whispered the words against the strands of her auburn hair. Again, she sighed. She pulled away and turned to face him, her silver eyes glinting with something he couldn't quite indentify.

"For how long, Sebastian?"

"What do you mean?"

"For how long would that title protect me? Champion of Kirkwall only lasted a few years before Meredith turned on me. Viscountess of Kirkwall probably won't last much longer than that; how long would Princess of Starkhaven buy me?" She shook her head and moved away from him again, his eyes stubbornly refusing to lose sight of her. "That isn't even the whole issue, Sebastian. How could I live with myself to hide behind a title when children are continuously being ripped away from their parent's loving arms, only to be thrust into the Templar's cruel hands?"

He frowned and folded his arms across his chest; as much as he hated to admit it, she did have a point. Not one his heart wanted to concede to, however. The selfish part of him said to forget the whole world – he just wanted to be with her. "Hawke…" He took a step toward her, but she shook her head and he stopped.

"Sebastian…that magic that killed Elthina, _our beloved friend, _is a part of _me_; you'll have to acknowledge that some day and when you do, you really think you're going to want to love me, much less _touch_ me?"

"Hawke, I have acknowledged that," he asserted.

She only shook her head with a sigh. "Fine, then you haven't accepted it. If you had, you would have reacted a lot more strongly than you did. You're denying it, Sebastian. Just as you have been denying that being a mage draws me into any conflict against mages. If the whole of Thedas turns against the mages and decides to eradicate every single one – that includes me."

Sebastian sighed as well and hung his head in silence. After what seemed like hours but in reality were only minutes, he lifted his head and strode forward to pull the mage into his arms and hold her against him. She didn't resist and even wrapped her arms around his neck. They embraced for a moment before she pulled back from him. "I know it hurts, Sebastian, but it's the reality of our existence…and I cannot deny it, nor can I turn my back on Anders, not after all we have been through," she whispered; in turn his heart ached, but he knew he could not deny it as well, nor could he deny the fact the she was in love with Anders whether or not she realized the extent of that love was to left to be seen. He couldn't hang around for that, as much as he wanted to support her.

"Aye, I know, lass. It's alright. I accept my defeat for now," he whispered with that charming grin that had once swept her off her feet. He leaned and pressed a kiss to her brow, before stepping back away from her. "If you require aid, don't hesitate to call upon Starkhaven and her people." He saw her sad smile and returned it with his own, before sweeping into a bow and then turning to leave the estate, the door shutting silently behind him.

Hawke watched him go with a wrenching tightness in her heart; she knew she loved him, but it was better this way. The last year, and especially the last few days, had been enough to make her realize that; how she had been so blind to it before was the age old reason – being in love often made you blind to reality. She was startled out of her thoughts by a gruff noise, of someone clearing their throat. She turned and smiled when she saw Fenris.

"We've done all we can for now, Hawke. Some of the damage needs actual repairs," he said with a slight frown.

"Fenris, anything you have done is more than enough," Hawke said with a smile walking toward him.

Fenris inclined his head and then his mossy green eyes found the door for a moment, before returning to her silver ones. "How did your discussion with Sebastian fare?"

She grimaced slightly and shifted her fingers through her red curls. "Not as well as I'd hoped; he wanted me to deny reality and run away to Starkhaven with him. A mage would never be accepted as Princess of Starkhaven," she laughed softly, almost bitterly.

Fenris cocked his head and eyed her intently, as if he were debating whether or not to say something before he spoke a moment later. "Just like a mage would never be accepted as Viscountess of Kirkwall?"

"Exactly –" She started to agree with him before she caught the meaning in his words and stopped dead. "I saved Kirkwall, Fenris, that's the only reason they accept me…and even that is likely tenuous at best."

He nodded, conceding to her for now; he didn't want to press her on something she had determinedly decided upon. "Aveline would like to speak to you before she leaves," he said, turning to glance back at the Guard Captain and the mage as they spoke in hushed tones about something obviously private.

"What about you, Fenris? No doubt you don't want to stay at The Hanged Man for fear of becoming Isabella's latest conquest," Hawke chuckled.

Fenris scowled at the mention of the pirate and crossed his arms over his chest. "A return to my old mansion seemed the most likely scenario," he mumbled. He brushed a lock of white hair from his eyes and leaned against the wall just behind him.

"Don't bother," Hawke then said with a cheery smile, making him blink a few times in confusion. "My mother's room, or the study, or the countless other rooms, are more than welcome to you, old friend."

He frowned thoughtfully though he was touched by her gesture; they had a tenuous friendship at times and had clashed time and time again about every mage issue that came to them. It had made it hard for them to get along and they argued. When he had killed Hadriana and stormed from the Slaver caverns, she had spent hours looking for him only to find him in her home. They had argued for what seemed like hours, until her words struck him to the core, making him realize that it was him that was keeping himself a slave, not the former master that hounded his every step. She had stood her ground and in that moment he had found her the most infuriatingly beautiful woman he had ever seen. He hadn't been able to stop himself from pushing her roughly against the wall and claiming those sassy lips. Somehow they had ended up in her bed, coming together like two primal animals in the heat of passion, forgetting everything in the heat of the moment. Once it was over, he had admitted that it was a mistake, that he wasn't ready for this, couldn't handle the memories cropping up; she had agreed, almost begrudgingly and after that night they had never spoken of it again. Over the next three years they had found a way to use that to form an actual friendship and had grown closer than before; the fact the she opened her home to him like this in the face of all that astounded him.

"If you're sure, Hawke," he said gruffly, avoiding her gaze.

"Of course I am Fenris," She chuckled and moved past him, stopping for a moment to survey the almost restored room with a smile forming across her lips. "You came back for me, you helped save me; the least I can do is offer my home." She said nothing after that and moved further into the room, causing whatever conversation that Aveline and Anders' were having to cease entirely.

"Aveline, you wanted to speak to me?"

Aveline smiled to her friend and came forward, pressing a hand to her shoulder. "We can speak later, Hawke. I need to return back to the Keep to make sure everything is in order," she shook her head with a small chuckle. "No doubt Donnic will complain I work too hard."

"It wouldn't surprise me," Hawke chuckled and despite the fact that Aveline wasn't the touchy-feely type, she reached out and pulled the Guard Captain into a tight hug. The woman's arms came around her and returned the embrace. "It's so good to see you, Aveline."

"And you, Hawke; I worried how you were faring." The Guard Captain held her for a long moment before she pulled away stiffly and regained her normal gruff and tough demeanor. "I will return in the morning to speak with you. We can discuss your travel plans then, as well." She glanced toward the foyer before back to Hawke. "I assume you have given Fenris accommodations? Denarius' old mansion was restored and sold to some absurd and rather obnoxious nobles."

"I did indeed," Hawke chuckled.

"Then I shall be on my way. Make sure he guards you well, I am not about to have some ambitious idiot try to harm the new Viscountess," Aveline playfully jabbed at Hawke, knowing the statement was pure bullshit; anyone who tried to assassinate Hawke was bound to be in for the ass-kicking of their lifetime. With that she left the room and walked into the foyer where she spent a moment or two speaking with Fenris, before she left the mansion.

Hawke found herself looking at Anders, his warm amber eyes intense as they locked on her. She swallowed and found her heart was beating like an overworked drum within her breast. Fenris came in then and caught her attention, her silver gaze sliding over to him.

"I shall adjourn to a room, Hawke, after I see if you still have some of that delicious wine in the cellar," he said, a rare smirk making its way across his lips.

"By all means," Hawke said with a soft laugh and the elf nodded, moving past them on his amazingly silent feet and disappearing down the hall that led to the stairs that would take him to the basement where the wine cellar was; if it really had been Templars who had raided her home, she was sure there would be some of her stock left there somewhere.

"Alone at last," Anders' voice had her eyes returning to him. She smiled and nodded her head softly, stepping forward to take his hand. She led him from the main room, up the stairs, to her bedroom where she then softly shut the door behind them. She pressed him back against the door and crushed her lips to his, sliding her fingers into his blonde hair. He groaned and wrapped his arms around her, more than eager to return the kiss, his tongue caressing her lips before sliding in between them to mingle with her own. It lasted for a long time, until they were both breathless and forced to break apart; she stayed close, pressing her hands to his chest, her silver gaze intense as she peered up into his amber one.

"Hawke," he whispered her name and ran his fingers through her hair. "I thought you were in love with Sebastian."

She groaned and turned her head to press a gentle kiss to the inside of his wrist before nipping it sharply, where he then shuddered and sucked in a sharp breath. "I did love, Sebastian, Anders, but I loved you as well – I just didn't know it then. After the Fade…after seeing what you've been through, how you've suffered…reliving how I lost my family…I realized I couldn't stand to lose you, like I lost all of them. We could have gone our separate ways after Justice destroyed the Chantry but you remained by my side and protected me, just as I have protected you. You never faltered in your love for me, Anders," she whispered the last words and smiled, sliding a hand into his hair to pull him down for another kiss. "Sebastian could only ever love parts of me, but you have always loved me for the whole mage that I am."

His heart clenched as her words fell against his lips and he shuddered, her breath tickling his senses and causing his cock to strain painfully against his breeches. "You could never forget him, how can I trust that you can now?"

She pulled away from him and grabbed the front of his coat, pulling him with her as she backpedaled into the room. She then turned them and pushed him back onto her bed with a smile that made his gut clench with desire. "Anders, I sent him away and I am going to make the world see that there are good mages, that we aren't all evil," she said softly as she began taking the pieces of her Champion armor off one by one. "I would not want to have anyone other than you at my side for that. If it weren't for your love and dedication, I would have died, Anders." Her armor hit the ground with loud noises until she was left to stand before him in a simple blouse, her tight breeches, and her boots – the boots came off next, landing rather haphazardly as she tossed them away from her. Her bare feet then ghosted quietly across the carpet as she made her way toward him, coming onto the bed to straddle his waist, his hands clenching tightly against the mattress. She leaned down and kissed him breathless again. "I love you, Anders – if you have ever doubted any words of mine, these are the ones I beg you to believe," she whispered against his jaw as she moved her lips across his skin.

He groaned and shuddered, the words pushing him over the edge. With a growl he rolled her beneath him and kissed her hard, almost roughly, his tongue lashing against hers and his hands tight in her hair. She moaned into his mouth and he shivered, nipping her lower lip and tugging on it until she shuddered. His hands slid from her hair to her shoulders, before his long fingers grasped the edges of her collar where he proceeded to render the blouse in half down the middle. She squeaked and he chuckled, grasping a bare breast in his hand and leaning down to catch a stiffening peak in his mouth. His other hand found its twin and copied his tongue's movements with expert fingers until she was writhing beneath him in pleasure. He let the nipple pop free from his mouth and kissed her again, swallowing every delicious noise that spilled free from her.

"Too many clothes on," she gasped.

"Suppose I should do something about that," he mused. He leaned back and peered down at her. "You best not move," he mumbled as he rolled off of her to begin stripping himself from his coat. She braced herself on her elbows and licked her lips as she watched him strip himself down to just his breeches, her eyes admiring the strong and tan skin beneath his clothes; being on the run had had its benefits, they both had remained in good physical shape besides the weight she had lost from stress and fatigue. Once he was down to his breeches, he returned to the bed and stripped her of her torn blouse before eagerly untying her breeches and sliding them down her long, supple legs, shivering as his knuckles brushed over her soft flesh. He tossed them aside and came back to push her down on the bed, kissing her into a puddle of desire. He worked his hand into her small clothes and through the faint hair over her mound to find her silken lips that were wet with her desire for him; that knowledge alone almost had him come in his breeches. She gasped and arched into him as he pushed a finger inside of her, curling it to stroke that spot deep within that had her curling her toes and moaning his name. He worked in a second finger and did the same, her hands flying up to hold at his shoulders as she cried out and shuddered against him, her hips pressing back into his hand. He kissed along her jaw and then her neck, sucking skin between his lips as he began to stroke her, sliding his fingers in and out of her hot channel as it gripped at him like a lifeline. He stroked her higher and higher until she snapped, biting her lip to stifle a keening cry as she came around his fingers, coating them in her release as she quivered helplessly under the onslaught of pleasure. Once it subsided she fell back against the mattress and he pulled his hand from her small clothes, smiling as he licked her fluids from his fingers, her eyes darkening with returning arousal as she watched him do so.

"I have dreamed of this day for a decade," he moaned as he kissed her, letting her taste herself on his lips and tongue; it was the truth, really, he had dreamt of being the one she loved since the moment she had consoled him about Karl.

She moaned his name and he struggled with the ties of his breeches, managing to open them enough begin working them off his hips as he continued to kiss her. She slid her hand down his toned stomach to find his stiff arousal, beginning to caress him with her slim, lanky fingers. He ground his teeth and stopped her by catching her hand in his on his erection, shaking his head. "I have to have you now," he growled, pulling her hand away and pinning it over her head. She shivered and bit her lip as he took her other hand and did the same, before pressing his erection against her. He teased her, and himself, rubbing the head of his erection over her silken folds until she began to beg him to cease and desist and get on with it, which only had him chuckling with amusement. However, he did as she pleaded and with one swift thrust, he pushed himself inside of her scalding hot and silken wet center. They both gasped and moaned, arching into each other, shuddering.

After a long moment he began to pull from her only to thrust himself back between her supple thighs making her moan and writhe beneath him. Her eyes fell closed and her head fell back, teeth worrying her lower lip as she hooked her legs astride his hips to pull him even deeper within her. She tried to pull her arms free but he did not relent as he held them pinned, his hips slamming almost punishingly against hers as he thrust home inside of her again and again. It wasn't long before he drove her over the cliff, a cry falling from her lips, and his, as she tightened around his cock and bathed it in her climax. He grit his teeth and began to piston his hips faster, circling them even to touch every part of her womanhood. He drove her over the edge again, this time making sure she cried his name before he dared to give into his own release, a few frantic thrusts giving way to his jets of semen as he spilled himself inside of her. He cried her name in return and kissed her soundly, both shuddering together as they rode the waves of the aftermath before he pulled from her and fell to lay beside her. He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly as they tried to regain their breath.

"I love you," she whispered against his chest and when he smiled and looked down at her, only smiled more with amusement to find that she had fallen asleep.

"I love you too, Hawke." He whispered the words against her hair and sighed softly, allowing himself to relax for the first time in what seemed like eternity. For the first time in over a decade he slept at peace, not plagued by nightmares of Justice or dreams of longing for a love that could never be his; content, and at peace with that very love wrapped within his embrace.

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><p><strong>AN: **A lot of this chapter was written while trying to force myself through the wall of my writer's block, so I hope it went alright. Thank-you all for your continued support!


	22. Contemplations

**A/N: **Sorry about the late update to this; other fics have had a more insistent muse(Magical Blunder, and Amell, the Legend). I put a lot of thought and hard work into those, so if you have a moment, you should take a look. Anywho, onto the update! Review, pretty please? I love 'em!

_Disclaimer: Don't own it, don't sell it, just obsess over it!_

**Full Circle**

**Chapter Twenty Two: Contemplations**

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><p>Hawke awoke the next morning to find that Anders was still sound asleep beside her. She looked down at his peaceful face, gently brushing her knuckles over his cheek; she remembered the day in the barn, when she'd done exactly this but this time she could see a change. This was the first time in the year they'd been on the run that the ex Grey Warden truly look peaceful in his slumber. Her heart swelled with the knowledge that she had done this for him, no one else. By accepting Justice into herself and reverting him back to his magical essence, she had released Anders from the internal war he'd been in for so very long. She smiled and leaned down to press a kiss to his lips, gently brushing her lips across them before she quietly slipped from the bed and dressed herself in the Champion garb. Plans needed arranging and, as much as she'd like to lounge in the bed with Anders, she had to begin setting them into motion. It was only so long before The Divine decided to act, she knew that. Especially after she would receive word of what had occurred here; Hawke was certain it would be the last straw.<p>

The walk to the Viscount's Keep – her keep – didn't take long in the brisk, pre dawn, air. Her breath falling from her lips escaping in clouds of cold. She hurried along, walking into the keep after nodding to the guards at the door. Aveline was up and apparently waiting for her, pace at the top of the stairs. Hawke stifled a grin and made her way up them, pulling her hood down once she stopped at the top.

"Hasn't Donnic taught you by now that being up too early is bad for your health?" Hawke said with a smile.

Aveline stopped pacing and turned to face her, an answering smile crossing her features. "Quite so, Hawke, but I was certain you would require my assistance this morning. And, if you do recall, I wanted to speak with you."

Hawke nodded softly and sighed dramatically. "Who doesn't want to speak to me now? It makes me remember the days when I was Champion before Meredith lost it. I always wondered in the city could do anything without me."

Aveline shook her head with a small laugh. "Hardly. You saw what happened with Cullen in charge. The only hope this city has – and has only ever had – is you, Hawke." She laughed a little harder when Hawke rolled her eyes. "You should get used to it if you intend to undertake this new…_calling_ of yours."

"I figured as much," Hawke mumbled, rolling her shoulders in a shrug. "However, I cannot let what occurred here start occurring all over Thedas. If things have gone south this badly in the last year _just_ in the Free Marches, I worry."

"You aren't the only one who's worried," Aveline sighed. "The last thing I want is to bring a child into the world with an Exalted March on the horizon."

Hawke started to say something, but she froze when she realized just what the Knight Captain had just admitted to her. Her eyes widened slightly and a grin spread over her face, causing her red-headed friend to blush slightly and avoid her now rather intent silver gaze. "Hm, a mini Aveline; I rather like the sound of that."

Aveline cleared her throat and crossed her arms across her chest. "Yes, well, in the very rare instance that my child may be born with magical abilities, I cannot allow this to happen anymore than you can. There are innocent mages out there, good decent folk like yourself, who would pay the ultimate price if The Divine decides to take action; children, Hawke. Just like you, I cannot abide by that." She shook her head sadly. "You know I'd go with you if I could, but I am already in my third month. Instead I will do what I can in your place here in Kirkwall."

Hawke moved forward and grasped the Knight-Captain's shoulder in her hands and squeezed the reassuringly. "I would never put your child at risk, Aveline. She's got to be around to torture her poor Aunt Hawke, after all," she teased with a grin. "If you would like you can stop by the estate before we leave at dusk; Anders can take a look at you, make sure everything is progressing safely with your pregnancy."

Her friend's eyes looked as if they might tear up, but the red-head forced the tears away and smiled sternly, clasping Hawke's shoulders in return. "I will forever be in your debt, Hawke." They released each other and stepped back, Hawke sighing softly.

"We intend to leave in the cover of night; I don't need any rogue Templars catching wind of our departure. I need a supply cart if you can spare one, and I will gladly pay for supplies. Most of my fortune was left untouched; apparently searching beneath the floorboards in their search for me didn't occur to the dimwits Cullen had amassed." She pursed her lips thoughtfully. "We have a decent journey ahead of us to reach Val Royeaux in Orlais where The Divine resides, but I would like to be prepared for anything – including an extended travel – as I doubt things will go the way I would wish them to."

"As you wish, Hawke. Come, let us go acquire you a cart."

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><p>When Anders awoke, he found that he was alone. For a very selfish and doubt-filled moment, he panicked thinking that Hawke had changed her mind and fled after Sebastian. He rolled from the bed and hurriedly dressed, but stopped cold when he saw Fenris leaning in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest.<p>

"What do you want?" Anders asked, doing his best not to sneer at him; they'd worked together to save Hawke but now that she was safe, his dislike for the elf was as present as ever.

"You're not an abomination now," Fenris stated, as if he himself didn't believe it could be true.

"You're stating the obvious," he snapped impatiently.

Fenris was silent for a long moment, looking down at his feet before raising his mossy eyes to the amber gaze of the mage. "Is Hawke?" He asked, finally.

Anders' brows drew down tight as he straightened, folding his own arms almost defensively. "An abomination?" Fenris nodded and he sighed, shaking his head. "Justice is gone, Fenris. He may be a part of Hawke, but he in no way can influence her. She returned him to a state of magical aura; he is nothing more than a power that only Hawke can possess now."

"How is it she could do that where as you could not? You harbored the demon for over a decade, yet she muzzled and tamed him in a matter of moments," he stated.

Anders frowned as he suppressed the irritation burning in his chest. Why did the blasted elf insist upon reminding him that he was a failure compared to Hawke, that she had saved him and he had only been nothing more than a burden all along? He managed to shove off the growl, instead sighing softly. "She is pure of heart, elf and, as I'm sure you have observed after all these years, Hawke harbors a strength none of us can truly comprehend."

Fenris' lips twisted thoughtfully as he stood up from his leaning perch against the door frame. "You are correct, mage," he finally said. "You need not worry about her; she hasn't left you. She went to speak with Aveline little more than an hour ago."

"Thank-you," Anders mumbled begrudgingly. Fenris said nothing, just turned and left the room, off to do Maker knows what, Anders surmised.

"Wakey-wakey Blondie!" Varric called from downstairs as a smile spread over Anders' lips; the morning was off to a great start, he thought wryly.

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><p>Anders caught up to Hawke on her way back through the Hightown Market when the sun was high in the sky signaling mid day. He stood against the wall of a building, waiting until she came around the corner to grab her around the waist and press her against the wall; she stiffened and her eyes flew up to his face, but once she saw who held her, she melted into his arms as he pulled her closer and slanted his lips across her own. Her arms slid around his neck and she slid a hand into his hair, holding on tightly as their tongues started their achingly familiar duel. He stretched it for as long as he could, pulling her astride his leg and rubbing against her to make her moan, but he had to pull his lips away once he ran out a breath. She gripped his shoulders now and blushed hotly as she sat on his leg, her eyes glancing around before darting back to him.<p>

"Anders…people are staring," she whispered, shivering with heat against him.

"I don't care," he growled, kissing her hard this time, making her gasp and hold on to him tightly.

"I'm viscount, Anders," she whimpered helplessly, pushing half heartedly at his chest. "I can't just mount someone in the middle of hightown."

He chuckled and kissed her senseless before he withdrew, allowing her to straighten and fix her mussed hair. He tapped her nose playfully and she nipped the pad of his fingers making it that much harder to ignore the raging erection between his legs. He cleared his throat and took her hand, the two of them beginning the walk toward lowtown where Varric had asked that they meet him in the Hanged Man once all the arrangements had been made.

"How everything been prepared, love?" He asked.

She nodded and sighed softly, her body full of an ache she was disappointed couldn't be satisfied just yet; how her feelings for him had become so consuming, her attraction for him so overwhelming, she had no idea. That trip to the Fade had decided everything, she just wasn't entirely certain to as how it had. She had just woken, knowing what it was that she had to do and who it was that needed her and whom she wanted to really be with. "Indeed it has," she said as they walked down the stairs that led to the lowtown market. "Aveline will be stopping by before we leave; she would like you to take a look at her." Her eyes twinkled as she smiled to him. "You need to check on her bun in the oven."

He cocked his head curiously and arched a brow, but then grinned when he caught the meaning over her words. With his free hand he rubbed his stubble with a thoughtful expression. "Aveline spawn, eh? That will be interesting to see."

They both laughed softly at the thought, their linked fingers tightening ever so slightly at the thought of children; they both knew it was an impossibility with what they were about to undertake, but the thought still warmed them in the weird way it warmed people in love. They made their way through the door and found that Isabella, Fenris, and Varric were all downstairs at one of the tables. Varric was laughing about something while Isabella sat beside Fenris, leaning over to whisper something against his ear, the angle she knew would provide the elf with a generous view of her cleavage. Hawke rolled her eyes and let free Anders' hand as she moved toward them. She cleared her throat, causing the rogue to jump slightly and turn her gaze up to the mage.

"Hawke! A pleasure to see you as always!" Isabella purred as she leaned back from Fenris, even going as far as to scoot back until a good foot separated the two of them.

Fenris glanced back at Hawke and nodded, his eyes showing his appreciation at her interruption. Hawke smiled thinly and nodded, her and Anders both taking a seat at the table.

"So, Hawke! How goes the arrangements?" Varric chimed in, Hawke grateful to him for that; the awkwardness she always felt when she had to fend Isabella off Fenris was still no different after all these years. They'd had one night of passion over five years ago and nothing had ever come of it; they'd both agreed that they were better off as friends. Fenris, however, had still confessed to his displeasure at Isabella's advances so Hawke had made it her job to make sure Isabella never got far while she was around(she was sure the pirate had noticed but she never said anything about it).

"Everything is ready, we will leave at dusk."

"Why at night? Wouldn't it be better to travel during daylight?" Isabella asked as she propped her chin in her hand.

"While I might be Viscount in name now, there is no telling what the rogue Templars might be planning. Deccan and Cullen are both dead, so they lack sufficient leadership, however, I will not put it past those types of men to come after me. We leave at nightfall to sneak out of Kirkwall in the shadows; we are less likely to come across any opposition that way," she explained.

"So," Varric crossed his arms and leaned back. "Your plan is to convince The Divine to march against…what exactly?"

Anders frowned and set a hand on Hawke's shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly. "We do not want an Exalted March to even be considered," he supplied.

"How do you suppose to convince her with what happened to the Chantry of Kirkwall? And the recent death of the Viscount and Knight-Commander?" Fenris asked with a twist of his lips; he wasn't intending to rub past mistakes in their faces, but Anders certainly felt that he was.

"I will explain the circumstances of both to her," Hawke sighed softly.

"You think this will be enough?" Varric chimed in.

"It has to be; if it's not, then every mage in Thedas is going to pay for our mistakes. Mages were only tolerated just before that, I know, but with all this, all mages are going to pay. I will do whatever she may ask of me if she will be willing to spare the innocents."

"Are you sure about this, Hawke?" Fenris frowned.

Hawke laughed softly with a shake of her head. "You'd be surprised to know how many times I have been asked that over the last day. The world is falling apart all around us, Fenris. Would you have the influence of the Tevinter Imperium and the blood mages spread all over Thedas?"

He growled softly, slamming a fist on the table. "Never."

"Then you see why I must do this," she said with a nod. "You have told me how much influence blood magic has over Tevinter and I will change that, just as I refuse to let it spread. I promised to help free others of your kind, Fenris, and I plan to keep my word; blood magic is evil and a foul practice that has no place in this world any longer. It is only causing death of innocents." She shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Just as blood magic is evil, so is most of the Templar Orders and the Circles of Magi; I may only be one person but I plan to change all that I can. Something _has_ to change or we are all doomed." They all faded into silence as her words sunk in. While they might have liked to argue with her, they found that they could not for she spoke the truth they all refused to voice.

"Will we be traveling to Tevinter or Orlais then?" Fenris sighed.

"Orlais first, to Val Royeaux; if we can receive any assistance in our raid against the Imperium, it will help us tremendously."

Anders ran his hand over her hair, watching the smile that touched her lips. His heart swelled with pride. How he had won the love of such an amazing woman, he had no idea, but he vowed to protect her and to never squander it.

"Val Royeaux it is then!" Varric said as he lifted his mug. He and Isabella clacked their drinks together before downing them as Hawke watched with an amused chuckle.

"It will be good to travel with you all again. I had begun to miss your company."

"Aw, Hawke, you humble us! Our almighty leader was sad without us but of course she would be. You need a dwarf with a skilled tongue around," Varric chuckled softly. "Not to mention a chest of fine hair."

Isabella giggled and leaned forward, licking her lips. "Fine hair, indeed."

Fenris rolled his eyes as Hawke burst into laughter, Anders chuckling beside her. Though they were leaving once night fell, Hawke couldn't help but admit that, in this moment, among her friends, she was glad to be home. Doom could very well be in their future, but at least they would be together; if she failed in her mission, she could content in the fact she would at least be with her closest friends and the man who had managed to capture her heart after what had felt like an eternity.

She wouldn't have had it any other way.

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><p><strong>AN: **Review please, yes? :D


	23. To Orlais

**A/N: **I sincerely apologize for my lack of updates; I've been dragging my motivation/muse behind me kicking and screaming. That's after the kids and I went through our week of the flu. Also, I am using my collector editions of the game guides for info on the rest of Thedas; just fyi.

_Disclaimer: Don't own it, don't sell it, just obsess over it!_

**Full Circle**

**Chapter Twenty Three: on the road to Orlais**

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><p>Dusk came quickly enough as Varric and Isabella loaded the cart with any, and all, supplies that Hawke's hightown manor still harbored; Isabella voiced her complaints throughout and Fenris had his hands full waving off her advances with an almost feral scowl as he kept watch. Anders was as distracting as Hawke had expected; now that he finally had her, he found it nearly impossible to keep his hands off her. She was firm with her stance and resorted to teasing him thoroughly with future promises of intimacy if he would just let her get things done. He had, very reluctantly, agreed and now sulked with his arms cross as he lounged on a crate by the wagon cart.<p>

"You could at least help, Blondie," Varric grunted as he hefted a box onto the back of the wagon.

"Tsk, perish the thought, dwarf – how else will we ever get those stout legs of yours to grow?" Anders teased with a chuckle.

"Oh, ouch; you're only grumpy because Hawke wouldn't let you under her robes!" Anders glared at him and huffed, returning to his sulking.

"Mm, but who wouldn't want to get under those delectable robes of Hawke's?" Isabella cooed from where she sat perched on the ledge of the wagon's back. "She is so…curvy," she murmured with a physical gesture of her hands to elaborate.

"It would appear your interests haven't branched since we all parted ways," Fenris remarked dryly from his spot against the wall, to which Isabella promptly responded too with loud laughter. Varric found himself laughing and shaking his head, while Anders sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Glad to see everyone is getting along," Hawke's voice came from the doorway as she stepped out into the courtyard. Her brows arched suddenly and she shook her head, stalking over to help Varric load the last of the supplies. "Not fair to make the short one do all the heavy lifting, I would think."

Varric laughed and stuck his hands on his hips. "My height isn't an issue; in fact, a lot of the ladies seem to fancy it," he said with a wink.

Hawke stared at him for a long moment before glancing sideways to Isabella, then back again. "I think you have been hanging around the lusty pirate too long; she's rubbing off on you."

"Should make for a fun journey; can't wait to write my next book!"

"Next?" Fenris voiced.

"Oh believe me; the story of the Champion has been spread from coast to coast. More adventures with her? Priceless," the dwarf grinned. "Come to think of it, I had a very rude invitation to speak to a Seeker about you, Hawke."

She nearly dropped the last box as she slid it into the cargo hold, but Anders stood to help her and they both turned toward their friend with wary expressions. "Care to elaborate, my friend?"

Varric nodded and gestured to the cart. "Let's finish up then I'll be happy to share."

Roughly an hour later, all but Isabella climbed into the wagon; Hawke and Varric took the driver's seat, Hawke holding the reigns to the two horses tethered to the cart. Anders sat just behind her on a bench that spanned across a part of the wagon's hold, Fenris had no choice but to sit with him and, given their tense postures, they didn't seem to happy with their seating arrangement. Neither voiced any complaints, though Anders had an arm raised and had it hooked around Hawke's waist, his fingers idly and lovingly caressing her hip. Hawke trailed her fingers over his hand and smiled to herself, before taking the leather tether back into both hands as she nodded to Isabella.

"Stay to the back; look for anything suspicious – I got the front." Isabella nodded and disappeared in an elaborate puff of exaggerated smoke, Hawke laughing softly to herself as her pirate friend went to 'shadow' their progress through the city as she clicked the reigns against the horses and started their trot. "So, Varric; tell me more about this Seeker."

The dwarf nodded and rested Bianca in his lap, stroking his hands over her almost caringly; the bow was kept close in case of the ambush Hawke was sure was awaiting them. "Cassandra Pentaghast was her name; quite the forceful Seeker. I was kidnapped from The Hanged Man in one of my drunken nights with our lovely pirate. The Seekers of Truth apparently wanted the truth about you; the highly exaggerated tales weren't reliable enough for her to take on faith alone." He scoffed and laughed softly.

"Huh, faith isn't something those of the Chantry lack," Fenris mumbled.

"Quite so, Broody." Varric nodded and tapped his fingers on Bianca as the cart progressed toward the city gates. "She thought that Hawke had planned everything from the get go, and that she had recruited Anders to blow up the Chantry to gain control over the city with her status."

"What!" Both Hawke and Anders stiffened, bristled by the insinuation.

Varric chuckled. "I had to spend quite a bit of time assuring her it was all coincidence." The cart rolled to a stop at the city gates; Hawke nodded to the city guards, Aveline's men, relieved to see no Templars about. The three guards left their posts to pull open the gate, allowing Hawke's entourage passage through. Once they cleared it, and the gates shut behind them, Isabella popped into visibility, perched on one of the horses' backs, facing them with a smirk.

"All clear, Hawke," She called, before disappearing again and then appearing on Fenris' lap. He growled and promptly shoved her off his lap onto her ass, his lyrium markings flaring in warning. Isabella rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue childishly before she took a seat on one of the supply boxes.

"Thanks Isabella; you were saying, Varric?"

"She was really fixated on tracking you down."

"What for?" Hawke glanced over at him with a scrupulous expression. "What could I possibly offer the Seekers? I'm not exactly the religious sort…"

Varric shrugged his shoulders. "Half the time she was declaring bullshit and that I was nothing but tall tales."

Hawke rolled her eyes. "That doesn't surprise me."

"Ouch, Hawke, you wound me," Varric chuckled. "The Seeker wanted to know where she could find you. The circles, all over Thedas, are falling to ashes as the mages rebel." He glanced back at Anders who bristled under his scrutiny. "Anders' declaration of war gave the mages the spirit they were lacking." Anders mumbled something and Varric smirked before moving his gaze back to their once-again-leader. "The Chantry is at a loss and their Templars are falling one by one. She was quite adamant that The Divine is on the verge of exacting an Exalted March; she had hoped that you could bring peace between the Chantry and the mages before that happens, since you were in the middle of how it all started."

"Maker, it's worse than I had thought," Anders breathed, squeezing Hawke's hip reassuringly as she stiffened.

Fenris scoffed and turned hateful eyes onto the former possessed mage. "What did you expect your actions to insight? If you inspire with violence, violence is what you spread, mage."

"Now now, boys, play nice," Varric said, trying to head off the impending argument.

Anders ignored the dwarf and hissed under his breath in annoyance. "I didn't want to do it that way," he muttered.

"Yet you did. You cannot act surprised by the repercussions," Fenris said with a scowl.

Anders jerked and moved, as if he meant to strike the elf, but his arm was suddenly clamped around Hawke's waist by her own hand. "Shut it, the both of you!" She snapped out in annoyance, tears building in the corners of her eyes as she let out a deep breath. "It's the past; mistakes were made," she glanced at them all before back to the dirt road in front of them, "by all of us." The continued on through the darkness in silence after that for awhile, though both she and Anders cast whisps of light to lead the way. The moon was obscured by the clouds and its light was barely visible, so the whisps were really all the light they really had.

"Varric," Hawke breathed the dwarf's name after what felt like hours.

"Yes my friend?"

"How long ago did The Seeker come calling?"

He seemed to contemplate it for a moment. "Couple weeks ago, I imagine. I found your kidnap by Cullen odd timing. I vaguely entertained the thought that The Seeker was involved. She had enough men with her; she could have been behind it."

"How big was the company?" Fenris asked.

"At least fifty men traveled with her, and a sister."

"Only one?" Hawke asked, turning to look at him with a questioning look.

"A sister named Nightingale, I believe." Fenris, Anders, and Hawke all jerked and Varric suddenly found himself scrutinized by all eyes of their party, though Isabella's gaze was purely curious. "What?" he finally asked, growing slightly uncomfortable.

"Red hair?" Hawke asked. When Varric nodded, she bit her lip and turned her gaze back to the road. "That's not good…"

"Why's that Hawke?"

She was silent for a very long moment and Anders, as well as Fenris, stared at her, wondering if she was going to indulge the dwarf; the mission probably stirred unwanted feelings in her, so they were uncertain whether or not she would explain. Finally, she sighed and pulled the reigns slightly so that the horses would go left on fork in the road before them. They trotted loudly in the silence, neighing occasionally at each other when Hawke fiddled with the tether. "Sebastian asked for help for an errand…to meet a lay sister in the throne room in the keep; that sister was called Nightingale. She said she had to report back to The Divine that the mages in Kirkwall were out of control," Hawke sighed softly. "She warned us that an Exalted March could very well be on the horizon. With this news of The Seeker, and the fates of the circles; there is no doubt in my mind that The Divine will be taking action, and soon. I only pray we get to the Grand Cathedral in time."

* * *

><p>They only broke to make camp when absolutely necessary due to Hawke's worry that they were horribly short on time. Little did they know that she was right; as they traveled over the border into Orlais, The Divine was speaking with Seeker Pentaghast and Sister Nightingale regarding their orders.<p>

"You have not located the Champion then?" The Divine said with a sigh from behind her grand desk where she sat, overlooking some papers concerning the threats toward her.

"I'm afraid not, Your Excellency," Cassandra said as she knelt before the desk, Nightingale falling to her knee to do the same. "I interrogated one of her former companions; he had no idea where the Champion is now, either. I searched all over the Free Marches, even Starkhaven, though the Prince assured me he hadn't seen her."

"What news have you for me, Sister Nightingale?" The Divine asked, though she didn't raise her eyes from the desk, sifting through the papers for a moment before settling on a certain one.

Leliana glanced over at Cassandra, giving her an almost apologetic look, before they both stood to address The Divine; they always knelt, as a sign of the utmost respect. "I have much more gratifying news for you, Your Grace," she said with a smile.

"Go on," the older woman said with a flourish of her hand.

"As you wish Your Grace," Leliana folded her arm across her breast and bowed slightly again. "After the interrogation, I took it upon myself to station a spy in the City Guard of Kirkwall. I just received word this morning."

This seemed to catch the old woman's attention as she set the paper down and raised her wrinkled face to look upon the lithe red head with a cold blue gaze. "And?"

"The self-appointed Viscount, and Knight-Commander, I believe his name was Cullen, took action; he caught the Champion and tortured her for days before her companions rescued her. They, of course, retaliated and the Knight-Commander is dead." The Divine's eyes narrowed and she seemed vastly irritated, her fingers beginning to tap the desk. "The Guard Captain appointed the Champion as Viscountess, though she is curiously absent; if my information is correct, she is on her way to see you now."

"Very interesting," the old woman mumbled.

Cassandra glared at her partner before turning her gaze back to The Divine. "What would you have us do, Your Excellency?"

"The Exalted March will go as planned, but we shall wait until we have the Champion and her cohorts under our roof. The less opposition the better," the woman waved her hand dismissively. "Dismissed."

* * *

><p>Leliana whispered her way to the alleys of Val Royeaux, clutching a letter almost desperately in her hands; she played the part well enough, but she didn't think The Divine really had the best interest of the nation at heart. She was as religious as the next Andrastian, but she suspected that, in her old age, The Divine was becoming senile and almost overly zealous in her beliefs. She had to find a way to stop the Exalted March; too many innocents were going to lose their lives in the coming bloodshed. She slipped through the shadows and met a cloaked figure standing in the deep darkness of the ratty alley.<p>

"Ah, Leliana, I was surprised to have you call upon me; not that I am complaining, mind you. Always happy to have a beautiful woman call upon me," the cloaked figure almost purred, stepping forward.

"Zevran, a pleasure, as always," she said, almost sarcastically; after having traveled with the elf for so long, she had grown accustomed to his ever excessive flirtatious attitude, despite the fact that he was married to the Hero of Ferelden, her friend and now, her only hope; if she could get the Grey Warden and the Champion to unite, there was a chance for peace, she was sure of it.

"What can I do for you?" He held out his hand for the letter, which she promptly handed over, along with a bag of coins. He weighed it appreciatively, smiling before he slipped it into his cloak.

"The letter is for your wife, Zevran. I need it to reach Amell with the utmost haste."

"My wife? Oh dear, it seems we shall be busy again." He grinned, belying the attitude his words implied.

"It's a matter of war, Zev, of life and death for all of Thedas," Leliana implored.

"It would surprise me if it _wasn't_," he chuckled and drew up his hood with a nod, before he disappeared completely leaving the Sister to stand in the alley alone.

She only prayed he reached her in time.


	24. Unforeseen

**A/N: **I am SO SORRY about how long the update took, and, if anyone is still following this, thank you so much for your patience! All reviews, alerts, and favorites are more appreciated than you know! Again, so sorry it took so long!

_Disclaimer: Bioware._

**Full Circle**

**Chapter Twenty Four: Unforeseen **

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><p>Zevran hadn't needed to travel far; unbeknownst to the population of Thedas, the Hero of Ferelden and her husband were living in Orlais. His wife was still a Grey Warden in blood, and in name, but in duty, she had left Ferelden after receiving the news of the escalating troubles in Kirkwall. The darkspawn threat had receded; the vile beasts weren't seen these days unless a poor soul ventured into the Deep Roads. The thing Zevran could admire about his wife was her determination to help the people of Thedas, whether out of her home of Ferelden, or elsewhere.<p>

She had a giving spirit, one he could admire. He wished he could give her the one thing she wanted, but in that he continued to fail, though not for lack of trying. Grey Wardens…the taint made it nearly impossible to produce offspring; at least they had a slim chance, with only one of them being a Warden. If she had gone with Alistair when he'd confessed his love for her, there would be none. Two Grey Wardens reproducing was unheard of.

Amell wanted a child, something he wished he could give her, and he felt guilty in his continued failure.

At least they would be distracted now.

He followed the dirt road through the night air, keeping to the shadows like he best did until he reached the beginning of the slight canyon side. He slipped to the side and stalked silently down the slim pathway as it progressed into a hidden valley, overshadowed by the cliff sides and trees. Their small temporary cabin lay within the foliage, nestled among the wilds like she were a part of the nature blooming and thriving there, even in the shadows of the canyon surrounding them; perhaps Morrigan's stories of her life in the wilds had an effect after all, he thought with a slight chuckle.

The path leading to the cabin was set with a number of traps – all put there by him in his stubbornness to not leave his wife unprotected, despite her adamant protests that she was more than capable of handling herself(of which he had no doubt), but in the end she let him have his way, knowing he was doing what he could to look after her while he was away. A small smile and a kiss had been his initial reward, but he had pressed her to the table and taken a far greater one. Not that she protested. His thoughts were drawn away from pleasant memories as he drew close to the door, disarming the trap on the step before his hand opened the door to allow him to step inside.

"Ah, my dear _mon ami_, as beautiful as always," he breathed as his wife turned away from her desk to look at him as he entered. Her smile lit a fire in his heart he'd never felt before her. She came toward him, her nearly silver eyes twinkling as she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew his head down for a heated kiss, the scent of lavender wafting up from her auburn, nearly feather soft, hair to tease at his senses.

After letting out a sigh, she pulled back, looking up at him. "Did you find the Sister?"

He chuckled, taking the letter from inside his cloak and passing it to her. "Just not any Sister – Leliana."

Her brows rose sharply at that. "So _that's _what got you so riled; only someone we know could do that." She took the letter form him and studied it carefully. "Did you check for poison?"

His lips tugged into an amused smirk. "It isn't in Leliana to poison you, _mon ami_."

Amell rolled her eyes and moved to her desk, sitting on the edge as she lifted a dagger to slice the envelope open. "Her I trust – that old bat who think she reigns over the world? Not so much." Slim fingers pulled the letter from within, careful to keep from letting the paper slice her flesh in case The Divine, or one of her servants, had gotten a hold of it; The Divine did not like Amell's presence in her land, she'd made that perfectly clear. Dropping the envelope onto the desk, she unfolded the letter and allowed her eyes to skim across the parchment.

_My dear friend,_

_It is as you have feared; The Divine has called for an Exalted March and not just on Kirkwall after its recent events. Your cousin, Necroditei Hawke, had returned with the fugitive Anders and was taken into custody by the Acting Viscount and Knight-Commander, Cullen. Her friends, including the Prince of Starkhaven, managed to rescue her. Not for long, I fear. She in on her way to speak with The Divine, but it will not go as she plans. Her Excellency plans to take her into custody upon her arrival so she cannot interfere with her plans – I have on good faith that to herald the Exalted March, she will execute Hawke and Anders; should her companions involve themselves, they will meet the same fate. _

_Your cousin in walking into a trap and you know as I do that Her Excellency is not stable. The Exalted March is an excuse for the power hungry old woman to crush Thedas beneath her heel and show us who's in control. _

_We must stop her. Hawke will arrive within the week if my source is correct. Hurry my friend, or I fear the world we worked so hard to save will burn to ashes. _

_Yours,_

_Leliana._

"What does it say?" Zevran came to her side, running a hand over her hair at the troubled expression on her lovely features.

"I knew she would do it," she sighed, leaning into his side as his arm dropped to draw her in closer, her golden hued robes meshing against his dark raven cloak. "The Divine is going to start an Exalted March…murder the innocent mages caught in the middle of all this. She is also going to arrest my cousin, and execute her and Anders…"

"Anders? Wasn't he a Grey Warden? I recall you writing about how his flirtatious attitude reminded you of someone." He grinned, kissing her cheek and drawing his lips along her delicate jaw.

"Yes. After we killed the Brood Mother…he disappeared. I heard rumors of him in Kirkwall, then about how he blew up the Chantry…" She sighed softly; Anders had been a good friend, it was hard to picture his smiling face linked to the destruction that had taken place in Kirkwall. Ser-Pounce-A lot had made him grin for days and the mage had insisted on carrying the cat within him, much to her amusement. "Regardless of what he's done, I can't let them kill him, or my cousin. He was a friend once and a fellow mage." She set the letter down and turned into his embrace, relaxing against him. "Thank you, Zev. I know you aren't a mage, but you have stood with me every step of the way through this."

"My pleasure, _mon ami. _I would take on all of Thedas to see you smile." He chuckled and lifted her chin, leaning down to sweetly kiss her lips. "I would tempt you with otherwise delicious past times but I have a feeling the matter at hand is far more urgent."

"This once, yes." She chuckled and slid her hands into his dirty blond strands, pulling his lips back to hers and kissing him deeply; tongue stroked over his lips and dipped in to tease at his own, a sensuous duel they had many a time before. A long moment later she regrettably pulled away. "Come, my sexy elf – we have a land to save yet again."

"Yes, yes, what _would _they do without us," he chuckled, pulling her close to sneak in one more deep kiss.

* * *

><p>As they drew closer to the capital city, Anders found himself growing more and more anxious. His face was well known throughout the Free Marches since his destruction of the Chantry, and if someone spotted him, it wouldn't be the first time citizens of the land had tried to turn him over for the reward. He was worth a lot these days, and a poor family would never pass up on that kind of coin, even if they sympathized with the mages. He'd taken the reigns from Hawke when she had gotten too tired to keep her eyes open after days of staying awake; when he asked why they didn't stop she had said – "Something's wrong, we have to get there as soon as possible…I don't know how I know, I just do."<p>

Fenris was awake as well, sitting on the floor of the cart beside the bench where Hawke was sleeping. Varric was asleep next to Anders, holding his crossbow and half slouched over poor Bianca. Isabella was sleeping near the back, braced on a crate, head in her hand as she dozed. It might have seemed odd that they were all asleep, but it was the middle of the night and Hawke had been adamant that they keep going.

Anders sighed and rubbed the back of his hand against the bridge of his nose. "We really should stop and get some actual rest," he mumbled, clicking the reigns to keep the tired horses trotting.

"Aye, but Hawke said to keep going – it's best to listen to her." Fenris drawled looking down into the woman's sleeping face; for a moment, he could feel a brief twinge of jealousy at Anders that Hawke had ended up with the fugitive mage. He couldn't blame her. He hadn't exactly reacted in the best of ways after their night together, all those years ago. What was it about her that had all the men in their little group so drawn to her? She certainly was enthralling, he gave her that.

"We can't keep going at this pace," Anders said interrupting his thoughts.

"We should be nearly there."

"True…but I am getting a bad feeling about this."

"Your face certainly won't be welcome," the elf said, cocking a brow.

"Well I _know_ that," Anders snapped back, irritated.

Fenris' eyes fell to Hawke again, his thoughts almost as unwelcome as the mage's presence. Hawke deserved much better than a fugitive, murdering mage but…she had chosen him, and it wasn't his place to press or question her decision. Suddenly his world was askew and the cart was flipping, horses neighing and stomping about, screeching in pain, as a blinding light went off, an explosion deafening his sensitive ears, before everything went dark.

* * *

><p>Hawke's ears were still ringing when she came to. Her whole body ached and she felt strangely empty, cold; in an instant, she knew what had happened. A Templar had drained her, leaving her empty on her magical powers so that she couldn't cast any spells. There was no way she couldn't know that. It was the only thing that made her feel so…vacant. Her body shuddered violently; it reminded her of Cullen's damn collar. Her arm rose weakly – it felt so heavy like stone – and touched her aching head, only to touch something wet and warm. Lashes fluttered as she tried to open her eyes, silver orbs locked on her hand as she drew it back to find herself looking at bloody fingertips.<p>

_Well, that's not good…what in the void happened? _

She groaned as she tried to get her arms under her, pushing her body up slowly, weakly, every inch of her screaming out in protest; it took a few tries, but she was able to get herself to sit up. Her head swam, black dancing teasingly at the edges of her vision, but she stamped down on it stubbornly. This was no time to black out. Last she remembered she had been sleeping and now she was waking to what felt like torture – she had to figure out what was going on.

Another groan – not her own – caught her attention, eyes snapping to another part of the stone room she was in. Anders was sprawled on the floor much like she had been, his robes stained in blood, and his blood hair tinged red. She saw his brows furrow together and she knew he was inwardly taking stock, trying to figure out what his injuries were. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she tried to get her legs under her but she couldn't, the blood loss making her legs almost too sluggish to work properly. As his eyes opened, she grunted and tugged herself by her arms to his side, having to catch her breath when she reached him; if that simple act had sucked nearly all her strength, she must have lost more blood than she realized, or suffered more injuries than she knew.

"An…And…" She cleared her throat and groaned – to the void, even her voice didn't want to work. "Anders…"

His eyes opened fully, but it took a moment for his amber gaze to find her, before he copied her previous actions and groaned, reaching to grasp his head. No doubt it was pounding like hers. He set his other hand flat on the cold stone beneath him and slowly pushed himself up, his other hand still grasping his head as his vision swam. After a long, long, moment and a deep breath, he dropped his hand and looked at her, frowning intently. His hand reached out and touched her face, causing her to wince; she had injuries on her face then, too.

"Are…are you alright, Hawke?" He dropped his hand and sat himself fully up, grasping at his abdomen with an arm as it protested.

"Not sure…everything hurts, even my teeth," she joked with a small laugh, whimpering a bit as it caused her chest and abdomen to shoot out pain.

"No kidding," he mumbled. "You feel that too, don't you?"

"The drain? Yeah…Templars…" She huffed, sucking a breath in. "What happened?"

Anders sighed. "Fenris was keeping guard in the back, I was watching the road. All I caught was a flash; next thing I know, the cart was flipping, something exploded, my ears were ringing and I tasted blood." He shook his head and pulled himself back to lean against the wall, Hawke slowly following after him.

"What about the others?" She asked as she leaned back against the wall beside him, grateful to not to have to hold herself up, her strength sorely lacking.

"I…don't know."

"This is great…" She sighed and took a look around the room; they were in a stone cellar, small, no benches or beds, floor dingy and at most had rotted cloth for bedding. It was maybe nine feet by ten feet, given her best guess. The single entry was a barred gate, no doubt locked. No windows. The only light came from the light sources beyond the locked gate. "We're in a cell somewhere…Templars must have ambushed us and then brought us to a nearby prison. _Maybe _a circle…we were close to Val Royeaux though…could have brought us to the White Spire…ugh. This is not good. Can't heal…"

"Potions…might have vials in my robes…" He grunted the words, opening the front of his coat, reaching inside and thanking the maker when he found two unbroken vials of healing solution. He passed one to Hawke and they popped the corks, downing the potions thankfully; they were small, but it was enough to staunch any bleeding, whether internal or external. It was more than enough for the moment.

"Thanks…glad you're okay," she breathed, dropping the vial and laying her head on his shoulder.

"Me too, Hawke, you have no idea…but what do we do now?" He didn't want to know the answer. They were obviously in no condition to attempt an escape and who knew when their jailors would be back. They weren't ever sure where they were beyond the fact they had to have been taken in by Templars.

"I…I don't know…" She sighed, and he could have sworn he heard her voice break. He lifted a hand and cupped her head, holding her to him and trying to soothe her. "I should have listened to Aveline; we never should have left."

* * *

><p>Fenris was in a cell on his own, down the hall from Hawke and Anders; Isabella and Varric were right across from him. His ears could pick of Hawke's weak voice and he felt his gut churn with anger, his lyrium markings flaring in response. He had the same abilities as the Templars who attacked them, so their drain wasn't able to affect him the same as it would have immobilized the mages in their group. Isabella and Varric would be unaffected as well, but they all still had perspective injuries from the explosion and the cart crashing.<p>

"Isabella? Varric?" He grunted as he grasped the bars of his cell, pulling himself to his feet; he ached, but he knew that his injuries weren't severe. Hawke's body had shielded his and that in itself angered him – he hadn't been quick enough to protect her.

"Oh good, Broody's awake." Varric chuckled, though it broke off in a groan. The dwarf came to stand at the bars where Fenris could see him. "How bad is it?"

"I'm fine. Hawke and Anders are alive as well, but they don't sound good. What about you?"

"You can hear them? Oh right, elves hear better – that's useful…" Varric rubbed his bruised jaw. "It looks a lot worse than it is, I think. Isabella on the other hand…she got it pretty bad. She is laying down – having trouble getting up, much less staying awake."

"Can you pick the lock?"

Varric gazed at him carefully. "You have a plan, Broody?"

"Aye…kill all these bastards and get us out of this bloody dungeon."

The dwarf chuckled. "Let me see what my talented fingers can work out for you."


	25. It's Darkest

**A/N: **The Divine is the way she is, because I have written her that way; I have not read Asunder yet. It is sitting on my shelf waiting to be read with about a dozen other books. One of these days, I'll get to it. Anyone still following this story, this is original post DA-2 ideas of mine – I am sorry if I don't keep to the character of the Divine, this story was in process before Asunder was released. This, as it turns out, has and continues to be the longest fic I have ever written, so continued thanks to every one of who continue to enjoy this.

I started this over a year ago, and I can't believe I have been working on it for so long. I hope the end is worthy; I can't wait! Much of this isn't planned, just basic ideas – a lot of it is written when I open word and just start typing. ^_^

_Disclaimer: Bioware_

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><p><strong>Full Circle<strong>

**Chapter Twenty-Five: It's Darkest…**

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><p>Infiltration proved considerably easier than the ex-crow would have expected considering the dungeons housed the two most wanted fugitives in Thedas and their companions. Which left only one explanation; a trap, a thought he shared immediately with his wife and Leliana in the room they had secured in a tavern just inside the city's limits. He and Leliana were rogues of the top degree, but the two took care to ascertain that they would remain undiscovered in their meeting place; a rent-able bedroom, with one bed, an end table, a lantern, and a wardrobe – a place one would rest when traveling, but hopefully a place unlikely to search for conspirators.<p>

"Likely a trap," Zevran announced.

"That is what I feared." Leliana sighed and paced away, before back, worrying her lower lip.

Amell tapped her fingers on the end table, magical energy sparking around her fingertips; something Zevran often saw when she was aggravated or frustrated. "She's baiting me," she finally said. "It's bait – _they're _bait. Maker preserve her, if anything happens to them…" She nearly growled the words as she stood; if there was one thing she did not abide by, it was others being hurt in their pursuit of her. _Especially_ family. Zevran knew without a doubt that he would be unable to keep his mage wife from bringing down the Divine if the old crone had done anything to hurt her cousin. Not that he would _want_ to stop her.

"Then it is best we go retrieve them now, _mon amour_." Zevran moved to his wife's side and wrapped an around her, bringing her flush against his side. He pressed a kiss into her hair and she sighed, calming herself.

"That's exactly what they want, Zev." Leliana tapped her nails together, lips pursed as she paced back and forth on silent steps.

"They underestimate us." Zevran assured; there was no lie in his words. Time and time again, their foes underestimated not only him, but the Hero of Ferelden – he would think tales of her defeat of the Archdemon would deter enemies, yet it only provoked them, egged them in their want to take down a legend. It seemed her cousin, the Champion of Kirkwall, had the same appeal.

"Aye. A common mistake." Amell put emphasize on the word 'mistake', her silver eyes flashing dangerously. "One they will regret."

Leliana sighed and stopped her pacing, folding her arms across her leather-encased chest. "So Zev, what did your initial sweep of the dungeons tell you?"

"They have no more than a dozen Templars guarding the Champion and her friends."

Amell couldn't help but laugh softly, shaking her head. "_Obviously_ a trap; such a small number of men set to lure us into a false sense of security. It is almost insulting how obvious it is."

"Over confident, as those of the Templar Order often are," Zevran said dryly, shrugging his slim shoulders. "You think the abominations and blood mages they so fear would have taught them to be less egotistical. Tsk, _fous_." He clucked his tongue and stroked his hand over her hair.

"We can get in quietly enough, but can we get them out just as quietly?" Leliana asked as she came to stand before them, her auburn brows pulled tight over her eyes – with concern or irritation, it was uncertain.

"Oh, we will get them out…never doubt that, Leliana, my friend." Amell reached out, tucked auburn hair behind Leliana's ear. "My sister, we will get them out."

* * *

><p>"I can't get the bloody door unlocked," Varric hissed as he tossed his bent lock picks to the stone floor where they clattered with soft clinks of sound.<p>

Fenris scowled and paced his cell, frustrated. Anders and Hawke were quiet, as was Isabela, while he and Varric were trying to find them a way out of this predicament. He stopped as something occurred to him – it _was_ quiet. No guard had come by their cells in at least an hour, and he heard no telltale sound of armor clunking as Templars' did when they walked about. It was _too_ quiet. Why hadn't he noticed that before? He moved to the bars of his cell, gripped the iron, and listened.

"What might you be doing there, Broody?"

"You hear that don't you dwarf?" Fenris asked the question in a low growl.

"Hear what? I haven't heard anything for a while now." Varric gripped the bars of his own cell and tried to peer out into the halls, only to see nothing.

"Yes…nothing." Fenris turned his eyes to Varric. "You don't think it's strange that no guard has come by? Or that we haven't heard them walking about?"

Varric's eyes widened slightly. "Now that you mention it Broody…"

There was a tap. Fenris jerked, turning in the direction of the sound; down the left of the hall. Then another tap; light footfalls as they came toward where Fenris was housed. A cloaked figure came to stand in the middle of the hall, between him and Varric. It looked between the two of them, before turning toward Fenris, eyes glinting ever so slightly in the shadows concealing the figure's face.

"You are Hawke's companions?" The voice was soft, feminine, and almost familiar.

"We are," Fenris stated, somewhat cautiously.

"Is she here?" The figure turned to look down the hall, then back at Fenris as he nodded. "Good. Zevran – please unlock these pesky gates." Fenris' eyes widened ever so slightly when the elf's name came up; hadn't that been the elf that Hawke had helped with the Antivan Crows, before Kirkwall had literally went to the Void? He didn't have to wait long to know for sure that it was, as the blonde elf came melting from the shadows and began picking the lock to his cell effortlessly.

"We meet again, _mon ami_," the blonde purred with a chuckle. "The fates throw us together is the strangest ways."

"Love, hurry. We may not have much longer," the figure tugged on Zevran's arm before Fenris could reply, and the elf nodded, moving quickly to unlock Varric's cell.

"Riviani is injured." Varric said as the door swung open with a quiet squeak.

"I can have a look at her." The cloaked figure moved to step toward the cell, but Fenris' hand had snapped out before he realized it and caught her arm. Zevran tensed, his daggers drawn as he watched him warily.

"Who are you?" Fenris asked quietly. Almost deadly. He didn't know who this stranger was, but he wasn't going to remain in the dark; he would not walk blindly with an unknown at his back.

The figure chuckled and took back her arm, lifting both so that slim fingers could grasp the edge of her hood and slowly pull the cloth back. Fenris found himself looking at someone all too familiar, and yet so foreign; the curve of her chin, the definition of her cheekbones, her curved button nose, auburn hair, and silver eyes framed with red lashes – he could have sworn he was looking at Hawke, but he knew that he wasn't. She smiled and nodded her head, having caught the recognition in his eyes. "My name is Kileah Amell – you may know me better as the Warden who slew the Archdemon, and less as Hawke's cousin."

"Hawke's cousin!" Varric exclaimed and Fenris could swear that any moment the dwarf would flip out a note pad and quill. "The Hero of Ferelden," he sighed almost wistfully, "what brings you here?"

Amell nodded to Zevran. "Unlock the other cell." He nodded in turn and moved down the hall to where Anders and Hawke were locked up. "I am here to help you, and to stop the Divine. Sister Nightingale is an old friend – she sent me word and I came as quickly as possible. I know you do not know me, but we have little time to be rid of this place." She slipped inside Varric's cell and knelt by Isabela, settling her hands on the Riviani's abdomen; she began to illuminate a faint green, her eyes falling shut as she focused her magic on the prone form of the pirate beneath her hands.

Fenris mulled over her words thoughtfully, though he frowned and grit his teeth as her magic pulled against his lyrium marks. Hissing faintly, he turned and followed after Zevran who was now picking the lock to Hawke's cell and moving inside to check the shadows for her and Anders. He came to stand at the door, far from Amell's healing and let out a breath he hadn't even been aware he was holding.

"Who…who is that?" Anders' voice said quietly, a tone Fenris only heard when he thought they were in danger from something; it was good to see that the abomination still kept precautions, with or without his spirit friend.

"An old friend, in debt to you and yours for disposal of those despicable crows."

"Zevran!" Hawked exclaimed, surprise evident in the way her voice cracked slightly. "What in the Void are you doing here?"

"They are here to help us," Fenris offered as he came forward to help Hawke to her feet, while Zevran helped Anders. Her silver eyes found him, slightly narrowed at his words as she mulled over them.

"They?" Anders voiced her thoughts, gritting his teeth as he pushed back from Zevran with a nod of thanks.

"Aye," Fenris turned as the voice filtered in from the entrance to the cell and grit his teeth as the small mage gathered magic in her palm and coaxed a small ball of fire. The faint light was enough to see her face as she came forward, Hawke's eyes wide as she took in the nearly identical face of the slightly shorter mage approaching. Amell reached out a hand, gently taking Hawke's as she stepped away from Fenris toward her in curiosity. "The Templars used their blasted Holy Smite," Amell sighed as she felt the emptiness that came along with a drained mage; normally their magic would touch, but her cousin was drained, temporarily sealed from the Fade to where no magic was accessible.

Hawke's eyes narrowed slightly from the widened stare she had been giving Amell. "Who…who are you?" She whispered the words, still slightly unnerved at how alike the two of them appeared; she had a faint suspicion of who stood before her, gently holding her hand, but she couldn't even think of that without confirmation. It seemed nearly outlandish to her that the Hero Grey Warden would come all this way to help her, a measly fugitive.

"Ah dear cousin," Amell smiled and took her hand back.

"So it is you!" Hawke's words rushed out in a breath.

"Yes, I believe I mentioned my wife to you last we met," Zevran chuckled as Hawke nodded slightly.

"Come, let me heal you. Then we must leave immediately. We don't have much time."

* * *

><p>The group moved easily, quietly, through the halls of the dungeons once all of them had been properly healed; their weapons were easy enough to find, putting Amell at even more unease than she had been before. Varric and Isabela watched the rear as Zevran led the front, Amell just behind, with Fenris, Anders, and Hawke watching from the middle of their company. It wasn't long before they hit the main gate, out in the courtyard, the last bit before they were free – well, from the prison. Zevran hit the gate control on one side, Fenris hitting the other, and it whirled open quietly, the group making their way out, Zevran and Fenris bringing up the back.<p>

Hawke bumped into Amell as she stopped suddenly. "What is it?" She hissed quietly, hands tight on her staff, though her connection to her magic wasn't quite back to normal yet.

All eyes jumped to the group gathered in front of them; Varric recognized Cassandra there, a dagger at the throat of a bound, half unconscious Leliana. There were easily twenty Templar guards with her and Hawke bit the inside of her cheek; she had to keep them from hitting them with their Templar abilities, or she and Anders, and possibly Amell, would be unable to use their magic in the coming struggle.

"Let her go, Cassandra," Amell hissed, hands tight on her own staff as magic flickered around her dangerously.

"She has betrayed the Divine; she will be punished, like all of you." The Seeker glanced at Varric, shaking her head at seeing the dwarf there. "You stick your nose where it doesn't belong, dwarf."

"Oh I find crazies trying to kill my friends much where my nose belongs." Varric drawled as he cocked Bianca.


	26. Just Before The Dawn

**A/N: **To anyone still following this story, you have my eternal thanks; to any still reviewing, you have more than that. I have put so much work and thought into it, I am glad to see that there are those of you who have been enjoying it. It's been a long process, but at least we've reached the end – a sequel is planned, to an extent, and if it ever gets written, I hope to see you there. As always, reviews are love! I would LOVE to hear what you thought of the conclusion.

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><p><strong>Full Circle<strong>

**Chapter Twenty-Six: Just Before the Dawn**

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><p>"My, my, it seems our heroes are determined to stand in my way." Tsk'd a voice as a figure stepped from the shadows, behind Hawke, Amell, and their friends. "I should have known it wouldn't be so easy to rid myself of you and your murderous lover. I underestimated Sister Nightingale's friendship with the Warden; I never expected her to recruit Amell's help."<p>

"Your Most Holy!" Cassandra was shocked, to say the least, almost to the point of losing her grip on Leliana, though she was quick to recover.

Amell shared a glance with Zevran, but he very subtlety cocked his head 'no – not yet' and she allowed herself to turn around so she could face the highest of highs, The White Divine. A bitter old woman who'd given her nothing but trouble since she and Zevran had arrived in the Free Marches; in truth, she was very…underwhelming, not at all what she'd had pictured in her mind. If she wasn't alerted to her status, she would have pegged her as a normal old woman – and it wasn't easy to fool her.

Hawke remained facing Cassandra, eyeing the Seeker with a measured gaze. She could feel the magic in her restoring more as the seconds ticked by, but she knew she would not be able to do much if the Templars saw fit to sever her ethereal tie to her mana. She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath; the feel of the magic that Justice gave her was more profound, and so much more entrancing, pure, than the normal. She could feel the difference in the way it pulled at her, stroked over her, slid through her as if a part of her very soul. They had been caught unaware before but now she knew what she was up against, and could draw upon that part of the Fade that she had taken into herself; a thing Cassandra and the Divine would not have known of. Hawke's eyes slid open and she signaled the party to take up arms as she turned; Varric, Isabela, Fenris, and Zevran kept eyes on Cassandra as they armed themselves, Amell, Anders, and Hawke all now facing the Divine, staffs in hand.

Hawke's brows crushed together, lips pressed together thinly as confusion wafted through her. The White Divine – she was giving off an aura of deep maroon, tendrils slithering around her older body. A glance to Anders and Amell had her coming to the realization she was the only one who could see her that way. Something was wrong – very wrong. Off, disjointed; completely off kilter.

"What's the matter? Have the tongues of our heroes been frozen?" A grey brow rose, voice full of mockery. It only served to push her suspicions over the edge.

Hawke lifted her staff, pointing it in the old woman's direction; Cassandra cried out a curse, but the Divine simply lifted a hand to assure her assistance wasn't necessary. "You…" Hawke started, searching for the right words. "You're not the Divine."

"Blasphemy!" The cry was shouted from Cassandra, who tossed a barely standing Leliana aside. "You shall pay for your words!"

"Halt!" Fenris sneered and Hawke could literally feel as his markings lit dangerously across his whole body. She wanted to turn and look, but she dared not take her eyes from the woman before her. An inkling, a gut instinct, told her it would be a grave mistake.

"Cousin – what do you mean?" Amell stepped up beside her, a hand on her shoulder. Anders did the same and Hawke steadied herself, though the spreading cry of danger did not falter. Justice's magic was screaming hotly within her, warning her; she had cleansed him, and he had gifted her this magic, destroying himself in the process, but she knew it would never lead her astray.

"It is as I said – that…that is not the Divine." Hawke stepped from their hands and lifted her staff, arm extended. "I can see the stain of blood magic on you – see the aura of evil – and sense the…displacement around you. Who are you?"

"Very perceptive aren't you?" The old woman narrowed her eyes at Hawke, stepping forth until she stood at the very tip of the blade on the end of Hawke's staff. "However – you are not as you appear either, are you Dear Hawke?"

"Who are you?" Hawke grated out again.

"You'd do best to answer her," Anders warned as he stepped forward, a step ahead of Hawke.

"You, boy, have done more than enough," the old woman's hand lifted, swirled through the air, and before any single one of them could act, an invisible blast sent Anders flying across the courtyard into the brick wall.

"Cousin, go!" Hawke cried to Amell, not taking her gaze off the Divine as she felt the ancient magic rising to the surface, mana swirling around her slight form in a blue fiery haze. Amell did as she said, rushing across the courtyard to attend to Anders. The sound of steel on steel hit the air and Hawke knew that Cassandra had taken the opportunity to rush their group; Fenris and the others had to do their best to keep them back, while she figured out exactly what it was that was going on here. "Who are you?" She asked again. "I won't be asking again and if anyone else comes to harm at your hand, I will be swift in my retaliation. You can be assured of that."

Maniacal laughter bubbled from within the old woman, her body heaving with the force of it. Finally, when it subsided, she turned narrowed eyes on Hawke. "Your lover has helped move things along quite nicely for me; Thedas' fear of mages is at its peak, and there is no greater power than fear. You can see me as I am, Hawke," the woman drawled, her voice becoming deeper; reminiscent of a demon. The Divine was no mage, how a demon could be inhabiting her was perplexing. Someone else had to be behind this, pulling the strings on their political puppet. "And I can see you as you are, Hawke. Justice is a part of you – you feel him, and the great magic he has bestowed upon you. So tell me – who am I?"

The battle continued around them, as they stared each other down, but Hawke couldn't bring herself to turn and help, standing before the demon who she knew embodied fear as its most primal level. A demon of par with Justice; a being of the Fade that embodied one of the most powerful negative emotions in the history of life. "Fear," she whispered. The grin that spread across the woman's cracked lips was answer enough.

"Yes, Hawke – I am fear." She laughed, loud and obnoxious – the underlining demonic timbre made her involuntarily shudder. After a moment of indulgence, she narrowed her eyes on Hawke, lips twisted into sadistic smile. "I feel your fear. It feeds me." She chuckled, inhaling deeply. "It's intoxicating."

There was no way to hide her fear, not against a being who was made of fear and who fed on it. Grew with it, became more powerful as fear spread; that was irrelevant, in the end, whether she was afraid or not. She had no choice but to stop this abomination here. Thedas was awash in fear; mages feared the Chantry and the Templars, while the rest of the world feared mages and their magic. If this demon of fear was allowed free reign throughout Thedas, the fear it would be fed would make it unstoppable. "I may be afraid but I will not allow you to go through with your twisted plans." Hawke grit the words out between clenched teeth.

"You won't have any choice, Dear Hawke." The seemingly frail body stiffened, pulling up straight and defiant. "I was to execute you and your formerly possessed lover before the masses – feed their fear, but it seems I will have no choice but to finish it here."

"Who is doing this?" Hawke's eyes nearly slid to the side at the sound of his voice but she kept her gaze steady on the Divine. Anders had come to stand beside her, Amell with him making her unsure of who he posed the question to.

"The Divine is no mage," Amell answered, raising her staff to extend it toward the old woman like her cousin was doing. Hawke could feel her delve into her magic, powerful magic, and feel as their aura's clashed, tendrils of whispy magic dancing together in an ancient, yet familiar way.

"Then how could she become an abomination?"

"Anders – are you okay?" Hawke needed that answered before anything, her heart pounding loudly in her ears; her main source of fear was not being able to protect him from harm, after having been at his side for well over a decade now. Only in the last year had they grown so close, but she had run away from Kirkwall to keep him safe. Sacrificed everything to do exactly that. None of that had changed, not even now. She had no fear for herself, but for her friends. She would gladly lay her life down to protect her friends, and family, who stood and battled with her even now.

"Your cousin is a marvelous healer, love." He laid a hand on her shoulder reassuringly.

"Good." She sighed softly, relieved. The Divine stood on the end of their staffs, eyes narrowed, watching carefully. They seemed to be in a stand-off, each waiting for the other to slip up just enough to make their move. "Do you remember Kerran?"

"What does the Templar have to do – oh…"

"Yes, I believe it is something like that. A powerful mage placed this demon here." She narrowed her eyes on the Divine thoughtfully. "Tell me who is responsible for this."

The old woman chuckled, as if amused with their theories. She folded her thin arms. "I shall indulge you, simply because you won't be here for much longer. Let's call it your final request." Hawke moved to argue, but her lips snapped shut when the old woman waved a hand to cease her protest. "There are greater powers at work here than you realize, Hawke. You have enemies…in very high places."

"Hawke! It's the Black Divine!" The shout came from behind her, over the sound of weapons as the commotion continued around her. Amell turned and watched as her friend, Leliana, came rushing toward them, slicing open the throat of a guard who'd dared to try and get in her way. She came to a halt beside Hawke, daggers held up and ready. "I was investigating when Cassandra ambushed me – Her Grace had been visited by an unknown man, who it turns out was the Black Divine himself. The only explanation is that – "

"He used blood magic to summon a demon into Her Grace!" Amell finished.

"Maker," Hawke let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. There had been plans in motion since the very moment Anders had blown up the Chantry of Kirkwall, and none of them had had any idea.

"Oh what a clever bunch you are," the demon drawled, picking idly at her nails. Glowing eyes lifted and a smirk tilted the old woman's lips slightly upward. "Too little, too late. You won't be able to stop it now."

Leliana stepped forward, angling slightly in front of Amell, as if to help shield her should the woman attack. "The Archon will not be able to go through with his plans if he is lacking his figure head. Thedas would not follow him, not the way they would follow Her Grace."

"You cannot stop me," the demon growled and Hawke saw the first indication of impatience, her body angling forward, taking a more offensive posture. "Even if you kill me, you will be tearing Thedas apart. You will have murdered the Divine, the greatest crime there is to commit aside from killing Andraste herself."

"That may be true," Hawke sighed, "but it all comes down to how much we are willing to sacrifice to stop evil. If I have to be hated, ostracized, then so be it."

Everything became too silent then, the screams of dying men having faded and the sounds of steel hitting steel disappeared. Hawke's companions came to stand around her, Fenris and Anders taking up stance just slightly in front of her, warding her. She did not lower her staff, instead, she leaned forward with it, holding the very tip to the older woman's throat. "You cannot take us all on, and hope to win. This ends here."

The demon in the guise of the Divine stepped back slowly, face lowered. She began laughing, her whole body shaking with the force of it as it burst from her. That aura, that only Hawke had been able to see, exploded around her, wrapping around her, enveloping her until she disappeared. They weren't left to wonder for long, when the spot where she had vanished burst forth a blinding light; a roar split open the air around them, making them all cringe and cover their ears, it was deafening. Eyes cracked open as the light dimmed and Hawke truly felt fear in that moment. Before them was the demon in its true form, massive in stature, at least several stories tall, wide as several merchant stands; it was grotesque in appearance, veins of blood everywhere, massive horned head covered in numerous amounts of eyes – hundreds even. Its lanky fingers were tipped in enormous claws that could easily tear her apart, a spike tail smashing through the building behind it as if made of parchment.

Hawke knew they were outmatched, but they had no choice but to try. A demon like this could not remain loose in the world.

"Am I late?" Hawke's eyes widened at that voice and she turned to see a grinning Sebastian at the entrance to the courtyard, an army of trained men standing with him.

"Sebastian!"

"I hope you truly did not believe I would leave you alone in this." He chuckled and signaled to his men. "I am not about to let a demon taint the Maker's house. This demon dies today. Attack!"

It was as if chaos exploded into existence, taking tangible shape in the courtyard as the man rushed the demon abomination, greater in strength and size than any creature Hawke had faced, including the High Dragon that had nearly chewed her to pieces. Hawke and Amell sent the others forward with the men, the two mages, and Anders, falling back toward the edge of the courtyard where Sebastian was unleashing a rain of arrows upon the demon; they gathered just behind the Prince, though Anders took up stance beside him, standing with him, and using spells to assist. It made Hawke's heart swell, to see the two battling together, standing together, as they had in Kirkwall before the Chantry's destruction had ruined everything.

"The others will only be able to weaken it," Amell shouted over the roar of battle. "You and I must destroy it!"

"How?"

"Our blood is powerful, cousin. It is abhorrent, but I fear we have no choice!"

"Blood magic?" Hawke's eyes widened and she blanched; she hated blood magic, but part of her knew it had its uses – her father had used blood magic, and had never succumbed to a demon. He had been strong, and had even used that forbidden magic to keep demons sealed away.

"Blood magic is not strictly evil, cousin. We can use it for good and we have no choice; this is the most powerful blood magic I have ever seen! Our bloodline, together, is the only way to stop it!"

Hawke shuddered but nodded. Amell nodded as their eyes met. Her hand dipped inside her robes and fished out a dagger; keeping her stern gaze locked with Hawke's, she slit open her palm with a hiss before she passed the blade to her. Hawke held it for a moment, staring at the blood on the steel. She had said it herself – if she had to be hated to stop this from happening, so be it. Whatever it took to stop the demon that was hurting her friends, destroying the White Spire, and would tear apart Thedas if they failed. They couldn't fail, she wouldn't allow it. Gritting her teeth, she sliced open palm and allowed the dagger to clatter to the ground. Amell held out her palm toward her, blood dripping in a steady stream; Hawke mirrored her, flesh mere inches from flesh. They closed their eyes and the blood took on a life of its own, slithering up from the ground and around them. The magic, Justice's magic, hissed to life, setting her body on fire. She had to smother a cry of pain as the blood magic and Justice's magic fused together, making a pool of magic so powerful, she feared she would combust into nothing but ashes.

"Use the magic! NOW!" Amell cried out and they both turned toward the demon, sweeping out their palms to send the blood spraying. The magic from Hawke burst free, setting the blood on fire with Justice's blue flames; it sprang to life, leapt from the ground, swirled together into a ball of blue flaming magic. Together, they sent the magic forth with great speed.

The demon whipped around, its tail swiping nearly everyone out of its way and spread them out across the courtyard. It roared in defiance, its mouth of sharp teeth snapping together as it gathered a defense. Red light swirled around it, gathering, before it was shot forward to meet their attacks; their magics collided and the two balls of ancient energy fought to inches. Amell and Hawke grimaced, falling to their knees, but they didn't budge, each drop of blood that fell only fueling the magic within them.

"More!" Amell cried.

Hawke nodded and they both grabbed their bleeding hands, wringing out as much blood as they could manage from the gashes. Hawke sought that energy of Justice, reaching to its very depths, and pulling up every drop of it that she could. The Fade spirit materialized before them, translucent and benevolent; she imagined this is what he had looked like before he had been corrupted by human emotions. His gaze was on Anders and Sebastian who were sprawled upon the ground, unconscious – she hoped – from the force of the blow of the demon's tail. After a long second – that felt like hours – he lifted his head and walked forward to where the two balls of magic warred for dominance. He touched his hand upon Hawke and Amell's blue fire, then slowly disappeared into it, and suddenly Hawke cried out with pain as her whole body locked up. Her eyes flared, blue fire in their depths, much like she had seen in Anders many times before. She stood, and moved forward, stern steps. Strong. Each step pushed the magic forward, pushing the demon's back; it roared and tried to stand against her, but it couldn't. She kept pressing forward and she screamed an soundless scream, her body catching fire in iridescent flickering flames. With one final push, she sent the magic into the demon and watched as it reared back, skin cracking, splitting, before it literally vaporized.

All the magic faded and Hawke was left to stare for a brief moment, at the many men and friends scattered across the ground, before she fell forward and joined them.

* * *

><p>"It's been six days," Anders bit his lip with worry as he paced Sebastian's office. Others were there with him, even Amell, Zevran, and Leliana, though Varric and Isabela had decided to return to Kirkwall but not before demanding they send word of Hawke's condition when it changed. They all had woke in the courtyard, completely healed and no clue as to what had happened, they had gathered Hawke and Amell up before traveling back to Starkhaven at Sebastian's behest. He knew when word spread the Divine had been murdered, shortly after taking Hawke and Anders into custody, it would only be a matter of time before they were hunted. Sebastian offered them sanctuary and Anders knew it would be foolish to turn it down, considering.<p>

"Physically she is fine, Anders." Amell smiled as she stepped up beside her old friend and laid her hand on his shoulder, much like she had after he had confessed his gratitude that she hadn't turned her over to the Templars and warned her that he may be more trouble than she deserved. It was strange, to have her here, but at the same time it felt right; one way or another, it seemed to be fate that he was mixed up in this family. First Amell, and then Hawke. Cousins, who had been born for greatness.

"Why hasn't she woken then?" He snapped out, irritated. He knew his worry was making him snap at her, but he couldn't help it when it seemed as if the woman he loved was in an irreversible coma with an unknown cause.

"The battle…it took a great deal out of her. Patience and faith, my friend." She smiled reassuringly again before she moved away to seat herself with Zevran who was conversing with Leliana beside the fire pit.

"Sit still, Anders. I doubt you will help her stressing out so," Sebastian chuckled, his words belaying the worry Anders could see in his eyes and the lines that had been etched into his features over the last six days. Lines that he had as well.

"Sebastian is right. Sit." Fenris narrowed his eyes thoughtfully on him. "I will go check on her, if that will help."

It was strange, Anders realized, not to be bickering with the two of them. They were almost friendly. Ever since Justice had been taken from him, he didn't have the warring need to fight with the two men as he'd used to; the spirit had had more influence than he had realized to affect his relationships. "I think I need to see her, but…thanks, Fenris." The elf nodded but didn't respond and Anders couldn't help a slight smile as he walked from the room down the hall to the grand bedroom, Sebastian's bedroom, where Hawke was asleep.

He opened the door quietly, his heart thumping loudly in his ears. He had failed to protect to her and it was killing him not being able to help her now, after she had saved them all. He loved her, so much, there was no way he could ever convey to her how much, and it was such a failure to him that he could not protect her. With a soft sigh, he closed the door behind him as he stepped into the room.

"Anders, thank the Maker you're alive." The voice had his gaze jumping to the bed where Hawke was sitting up, a smile curving her beautifully pale lips. "Are you alright?"

"Am _I_ alright?" He repeated as he hurried over to the bed, sitting on the edge. His arms found her, wrapping around her shoulders and pulling her to him. He shuddered with emotion, tears falling into her auburn hair. "Are _you _alright?" He pulled her back, his hands framing her face lovingly.

"Oh, I'm fine." She smiled and he wanted to rip out his hair with how…calm she seemed to be about all this.

"Fine? You were out for six _days_!"

"We needed time to recover. I have never used so much magic, so much of myself, as I did then." She smiled and leaned forward just enough to brush her lips against his.

"Thank the Maker, I was so worried about you – wait…" he stopped and narrowed his eyes as he leaned back, dropping his hands to grip hers. "You said 'we needed time to recover'." She smiled again and nodded. "What does that mean?"

"Justice came to me in my dreams, Anders, after the battle. Had the demon not rendered you unconscious, you would be as marveled by what had happened as I was. The magic…it was so powerful, so pure, given how it's normally perceived. I see now that it's not the magic that is evil, but the users." She chuckled softly and shook her head. "He whispered 'at last you understand, Hawke' and laid his hand upon my stomach. 'And so shall your children when they change the very fabric of the world you live in. _Together, the twins stood as everything they knew burned to ashes around them and birthed a new life into the world._' I'm pregnant, Anders, with twins. Our twins – our children."

Anders froze and struggled to regulate his breathing. Justice had not only delivered them the news that they would be parents, but a prophecy for their children; so many emotions warred within him. Slowly, a smile spread across his face. Children – he was going to be a father, something he had thought was impossible after he'd become a Grey Warden. Prophecy or not, he would cherish Hawke and their children every day he was alive, every day he had before his calling demanded his life.

He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly. "I love you, Hawke."

"I love you, Anders," Hawke chuckled as she wrapped her arms around him in return. "It's been a hell of a journey and it seems we aren't finished yet, but I would not want to be anywhere but here, with you."


End file.
